


Adapt and Endure

by Aydaptic



Series: Alive [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Upgraded Connor | RK900, Denial of Feelings, Dirty Dancing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Gavin Reed Backstory, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Hank was Like a Father to Gavin Before the Accident, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jealousy, M/M, Nines Doesn't Want To Be Deviant, Pining, Protective Gavin Reed, Protective Upgraded Connor | RK900, Slow Burn, Sparring, Top Gavin Reed, Touch-Starved Gavin Reed, as in the 'put your back into it this is pathetic' kind, bc gav isn't a bottom and y'all are insane for believing otherwise fight me, everything will be fine in the end though, like literally feral, nines is a power-bottom don't @ me, no beta we die like men, none of the leads mind you, reedemption, risk of developing anxiety pls read at your own volition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2020-06-26 03:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 135,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19760089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aydaptic/pseuds/Aydaptic
Summary: After the CyberLife store raid, Chris was left traumatized by the event of having a gun pointed at his head and was ordered to take some time off. Gavin -- currently without a partner -- temporarily received a new one... a surprisingly snarky RK900 that was to go for a test drive."Take your time, not in the fast laneI understand, that you've been brokenToo many times, but I'll be waitingTo mend your wounds, from all you've taken..."- 'With You,' Marin Hoxha ft. Chris Linton ♪With artwork and edits (by me:) Ch. 1 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 | Ch. 16 | Ch. 17 | Ch. 20





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Адаптируйся и терпи](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20758163) by [ViEwaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViEwaz/pseuds/ViEwaz)
  * Translation into Français available: [Adapt and Endure](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22274467) by [Eya_Silvers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eya_Silvers/pseuds/Eya_Silvers)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Before you start reading and get involved... this is a REALISTIC 'Slow-Burn' with 'Enemies To Friends To Lovers,' so if you expect them to be a couple halfway through (aka chapter 10 in this case,) this fic is not for you. Also, if you haven't watched the "Kara" short released in 2012, I highly suggest you do so! I took heavy inspiration from it for Nines' first part: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j-pF56-ZYkY
> 
> **CHAPTER WARNING!** Death of two YK500s aka child units. If that's too difficult for you... simply skip the NINES entry the moment you read about the gun. It's not graphic, but I wanted to put a warning anyway.

**GAVIN  
~ NOV 5TH, 2038 * PM 04:56 ~**

“Motherfucker!”

It wasn’t until Gavin Reed was standing just outside the door that he realized he’d been locked out of his own apartment. He’d just arrived from work after having to deal with an especially annoying suspect in the interrogation room -- some mostly unresponsive, red-handed tin can with the nerve to claim she was innocent -- and this was the last thing he needed. Neither was he in a mood to call his landlord.

Android-related cases had been the talk of the Detroit Police Department the past few days. At first, there were smaller incidents such as androids having disappeared from their owners’ homes, but now there were homicides. Didn’t help that the damn things were a pain to interrogate. Gavin was usually called in first, having a talent for such things, but this was the first instance where he nearly hadn’t gotten the suspect to talk. He’d spent two hours busting his ass only for the simulated textbook response of ‘I was just defending myself.’

His patience was wearing thin.

Frustration clouded his judgment and it wasn’t long before he found himself shoulder-barging the door open. Splinters from the hinges littered the carpeted floor, him nearly falling as it gave in, and a hail of curses followed. The ruckus had a peculiar bark he knew all too well echo.

He looked up to see his 3-month-old Schipperke puppy lazily emerging from the doorway of his bedroom with an accusatory, half-lidded glare.

“The fuck you looking at?” Gavin asked, reaching up to rub his shoulder.

Paws barked in his unique way in response.

Gavin never expected that he’d be owning a pet again, but he’d found the half-starved dog abandoned on the road three weeks ago and wasn’t about to just leave him there. The owners probably hadn’t researched the breed’s energy levels and decided to get rid of him before he tore up the furniture. His coworkers might see Gavin himself as the biggest asshole in the precinct, but he wasn’t heartless by far, and taking the dog with him wasn’t even a question. He’d attempted to find someone to take him off his hands only to get attached and keep him.

Just as he was about to speak up again, his phone rang. Meanwhile, Paws approached and sniffed the desecrated splinters. Gavin took another look at the agape door, and with mild irritation, reached into the pocket of his leather jacket to fish it up.

Tina.

Dropping the small-talk, she went straight to the point.

_“Hey, douchebag. Where are you? I still have your keys.”_

It was one of those days.

“Yeah, no shit. You seriously think I haven’t figured out at this point?”

_“Let me guess... you’re moping outside your apartment at this very moment.”_

Gavin looked to the broken door. “Not exactly.”

_“Are you for real right now?”_ she asked, taking the hint. _“Gav, you could’ve just called me. It doesn’t hurt to ask for help once in a while.”_

“I got in, didn’t I?” he asked rhetorically, palm open. “Look, it doesn’t fucking matter. I can afford a new door, all right?”

At the moment he realized the dog was about to _eat_ part of the woodwork, he fished him up in his arm. Besides, Paws would most likely bolt out and into the hallway if spotting a moving dust particle.

_“I’ll be there in ten.”_

She hung up and he could sense her amusement by a mile.

Tina Chen was one of the few people in the precinct he actually tolerated. She didn’t take any shit from him or anyone. If there was one thing that Gavin despised, it was people that actively let themselves get stepped on. Poked and prodded, pushed around, people with no sense of self-respect or dignity, people that just smiled and nodded... so when the tin cans arrived, his view on the matter was pretty clear. Considering that the unemployment rate was higher than it was during the Great Depression, there were plenty of other reasons to despise the androids.

The last thing he needed was some plastic prick stealing his job.

“This wouldn’t’ve happened if it wasn’t for you, asshole,” he addressed the canine, shoving the phone back into his jacket. “If I wasn’t needed at the precinct with these toaster-related cases, she wouldn’t’ve needed to check up on you for me.”

His only response was a paw on his cheek.

After all, that’s how he got his name.

Gavin scowled lightly. “You’re like a fucking cat, you know that?” he asked, question rhetorical. Even Paws’ following bark -- if you could call it a bark -- sounded like something belonging to a cat. Gavin nuzzled into the black fur. “Prick.”

Schipperke yet in hand, he directed his attention to the cupboard to his side and positioned his foot under the edge. With a bit of effort, he pulled it towards himself, pushing it in front of the door in order to block the gap before it was safe to put Paws down. The Little Black Devil wrangled out of his grasp the moment he was a couple inches away from the floor before bolting the opposite direction.

If only Gavin had that kind of energy.

Discarding of his jacket, he threw it onto the couch before pulling up the sleeves to his elbows. He reached for the remote controller.

> _“...and now to sports. First up, basketball: as the Gears prepare for their critical match with Denver tonight -”_
> 
> _“...Another 225,000 jobs were lost from the US economy in October, according to the Department of Labor, bringing the unemployment figure up to 37.3% -”_
> 
> _“...President Warren spoke today at the opening of a new CyberLife plant near Milwaukee. At the event, the President again praised CyberLife's role in the exceptional performance of the US economy. She further announced that the Department of Defense will acquire 200,000 android combat units as part of her increased military spending.”_  
> 

_200,000? Jesus,_ he mused, downright horrified.

The fact that the State Department was willing to order those things after current events was seriously stupid.

Looking at the program, he took note of how the only show he was watching -- and had earlier missed the episode of -- was about to re-air in ten minutes. He put down the controller again before dragging his feet into the kitchen to prepare some coffee.

Being a detective, he was only called in if there was a case requiring his expertise. At some point, he’d considered getting a second job just to keep himself busy, but the past week made it unnecessary. He’d been at work nine days in a row working eight-hour-shifts -- often double-shifts -- and that didn’t show any signs of changing anytime soon. Gavin was content with his salary and wasn’t one to throw away money, either.

He supposed growing up with the bare minimum had an effect. Didn’t grow up poor, far from it, but his dad had hit a year-long rough patch before Gavin had even reached his teens and got a taste of how it was like. His childhood had been rocky at best and littered with memories he supplanted never to revisit again. Then again, it also gave him the intellect to take care of himself when he was older. He basically raised himself and thus knew what to expect. It explained his independence. How he never asked people for help and how no one ever offered.

After contacting his landlord and clarifying the situation, it wasn’t long before a familiar voice called out to him.

“Heeere’s Tina!”

Sighing, Gavin stepped up to the door and had the cupboard pushed aside.

“Seriously? _The Shining?”_

“Would’ve been a missed opportunity otherwise,” she replied, handing him back the key she’d just made a copy of as tiny footsteps littered across the floor. “Paws!”

“Oh, so _he’s_ the reason you’re here?” he accused, sarcasm following. “Fan-fucking-tastic. Man, do I feel validated now.”

“Well, duh. Only reason we’re friends,” she joked, scratching Paws’ head with one hand and holding up a bag with the other. “Speaking of which... I brought dinner.”

“Ti, you’re a saint.”

She stepped across the threshold. “Figured you’d need it after today. Tin can really did your head in, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” he replied, pushing the cupboard back in place just before the door was about to fall over. “I don’t see why Fowler wants us to interrogate those things in the first place. They’re machines, programmed to simulate and lie, so getting any legit understanding is close to impossible. I didn’t sign up for this shit.”

“Surprised they didn’t have her thrown into the junkyard and called it a day.”

“Had the boss given me another five minutes, I’d do it myself,” he said, turning to see Tina pulling Paws’ head out of the bag.

“Chris said CyberLife took her back ‘for further study’.”

“...and the higher-ups are brain-dead for letting them,” he replied, taking the offered Chinese before plopping down next to her. “Christ, you don’t just _accidentally_ code a murder program. Those supremacist assholes should be taken out of business.”

“I sense a conspiracy. Insert _X-Files_ theme.”

“Remind me why I’m keeping you around again?”

“Oh, please. You wouldn’t last a day without me,” she replied, lightly kicking his shin. “I’m your literal impulse control.”

She wasn’t wrong.

It was already a bad week, but it all had to skyrocket that very same night when he was called back to the DPD for another interrogation. The android of a Carlos Ortiz -- Shaolin Being -- had hidden in the attic after murdering his owner. When another android -- and a detective unit, at that -- waltzed into the precinct, he simply knew his life was bound to take a nosedive.

What he didn’t know was that Connor wasn’t the android to be worried about.

* * *

**NINES  
~ NOV 8TH, 2038 * PM 02:28 ~**

At first, there was darkness. Then light. RK900 found himself in the middle of a brightly lit, white room, taking in his surroundings. His gaze fell to see that he was standing on some sort of platform. Robotic arms were inoperable behind him. In front, there was a mirror, although further analyzation revealed it to be one-way. His unit contained an infrared function that identified warm temperatures and could immediately locate the operator’s eyes. Three people were with him in that room.

 _“Fuck, that’s creepy,”_ came a muffled male voice from the speakers before raising it. _“Can you hear me?”_

“Yes.”

_“ID.”_

“#313 248 317 - 87.”

 _“Move your head.”_

RK900 did as instructed, although the collar limited his movement.

Probably intentional.

It was followed by orders to move his eyes, arms and walking a few steps, without doubt testing his unit’s functionality. He was under the assumption that he was the first RK900 unit to be activated considering his thorough evaluation.

The operator typed something on his computer. _“Surgical and optical animation... check. Give me your initialization text.”_

“Hello. I’m a third-generation RK900 android constructed for combat that can effectively aid in criminal investigations,” he replied, clasping his hands behind his back. “I can reconstruct previous events, pre-construct future events, analyze blood in real time, convince, intimidate, mimic voices, change appearance by will and decide the color of my LED. In order to be integrated into human society, my outer exterior and voice are identical to a human male in every shape and form, albeit my inner functions are without the weaknesses of emotion and pain receptors. I speak the necessary languages, never tire, and there is no need to feed or charge me.”

_“What makes you different from your predecessor?”_

“Compared to the RK800, I’m smarter, more resilient and sporting new features, my reflexes and combat abilities far more enhanced. The flaws of the RK800 have been rectified, making me the most effective model ever created by CyberLife.”

_“No retrograde disturbance... check.”_

“My unit has no official release date,” RK900 stated, narrowing his eyes. “I assume you’re making final adjustments?”

_“Yup. We’re pretty much there, so you’re going to be transferred to the Detroit City Police Department for a test drive. Can you repeat that?”_

“I’m going to be transferred to the Detroit City Police Department for a test drive.”

 _“...and no signs of anterograde disturbance. Check,”_ the operator said, before falling into a pause. _“Okay, let’s see some of your investigative features in action. There’s a gun on the table to your right. Pick it up.”_

RK900 obeyed.

> | **ANALYZING...** |
> 
> \- PISTOL  
>  [FIREARM DATABASE | .40 CALIBER | REGISTERED TO CYBERLIFE]  
>  * .40 Caliber  
>  * 1 bullet remaining  
> 

_“Man, I can’t look at this. Call me in when it’s over,”_ came another voice.

The operator sighed. _“Yeah, all right,”_ he replied before RK900 could hear a door open and shut. _“RK900? To your left.”_

Squinting, RK900 cast a glance over his shoulder. The door to another room opened, and once more, he was presented with a one-way mirror. This time, the mirror was on the other side. Behind it was two children minding their own business. One boy. One girl. Neither had a LED and they were possibly human. Then again, LEDs could be removed, so it didn’t tell him much.

He was about to do a scan before the operator interrupted him. _“One of them is a YK500 android. Using only optical observation, your mission is to neutralize it as quickly as possible.”_

> PRIORITY: **NEUTRALIZE** THE ANDROID  
> 

“Does my current mission require the best outcome or is it irrelevant?”

_“In the field, always go for the best outcome. For now, however... fuck that. Just accomplish your mission.”_

With that, RK900 lined the children up behind one another. He then lifted the gun and pulled the trigger. Blue blood emerged from both their temples, and while they both dropped to the floor in a thud, he casually walked over to the table where he put the weapon down.

> MISSION **SUCCESSFUL**  
> 

_“Well done, RK.”_

RK900 registered an AX400 android stepping into the room. She reached out her hand, skin pulling back, the white plastic of her exoskeleton revealing itself. He grasped her wrist. In a millisecond, a file was sent over, informing him that they were both YK500 units.

_“I don’t get why the higher-ups want this thing. It’s ruthless. What if it goes deviant?”_

_“It’s virtually impossible. It has no moral standpoint and always picks the outcome deemed the most effective.”_

_“So you’re saying the incident with Connor two days ago wouldn’t repeat itself? It let a deviant escape in order to save Anderson.”_

_“CyberLife has specifically made sure that its programming has a firewall to prevent such things. The mission is always top priority and everything else is dead weight. RK800 was programmed with a dormant deviancy code -- making it capable of feeling emotion -- but the RK900 wasn’t. This fucker is a mean son of a bitch, but at least it’s on our side. Call in Lewis again,”_ he said, gesturing to his colleague. _“RK900. How did you know they were both androids?”_

“I didn’t,” he deadpanned.

There was silence.

_“It’s ready.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Hearing that Neil Newbon (Gavin's voice + mo-cap actor) thought of Gavin as a "dog person" after the fandom had collectively decided he was a "cat person..." I took the liberty of including a bit of both. A dog that ACTS like a cat! Personally, I don't think Gavin has any pets whatsoever (his extreme work-ethic wouldn't allow it...) but I genuinely think he'd take in a pet if he saw no other option and/or grew attached.
> 
> Btw, Shaolin Being is the name Cornelius Smith Jr. (Carlos Ortiz's android) gave his character.


	2. To Meet One's Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Good morning, sunshine.”_  
>  \- Tina Chen
> 
> ...in which our two leads meet.

**GAVIN  
~ NOV 9TH, 2038 * AM 07:55 ~**

About to pull through Capitol Park on his way to the police station, Gavin frowned at the scene through his windshield. Camera flashes went off and police drones scanned the area. The crowd surrounding the center -- reporters at every angle -- left little room to see what was going on. The snowfall didn’t help. Crowded as it may be, he didn’t fail to spot the construct above their heads, holographic tags transforming one of the statues into what resembled an android. Not only that, but there was a huge logo he’d never before seen covering the wall.

Gavin glimpsed the police tape for only a moment before it disappeared behind one of the pedestrians. The road was blocked off, but he knew the officers and thus didn’t even need to flash his badge to get through. He couldn’t say that he was too keen on getting out of his black 1964 Chevy Impala and into the snow, so he let the cops already there handle it. It wasn’t his case.

Not before long, he parked outside the Detroit City Police Department.

Turning off the ignition, it went silent. He grabbed his keys and stepped out, shivering as the cold November air hit him. He hated winter. Being known to get cold easily, Detroit at this time of year was a nuisance.

Gavin slammed the car door shut, pulled up the collar of his leather jacket, and was thankful for the short walk to the door.

He usually took the shifts from 12 to 8 a.m., but he sometimes needed to step in for another coworker like any other officer. People at first glance believed him to be the slacking off type although that couldn’t be farther from the truth. If he was to use one word to describe himself, it would be ambitious. He wouldn’t stop at anything to get where he wanted to be even if it meant stepping on his coworkers’ toes. Pleasantries were a waste of time and he couldn’t care less what people thought of him.

Once he got inside, Gavin made a beeline for the break room in order to get some more coffee into his system. He didn’t fail to glimpse Tina in his peripheral vision and prepared for the worst.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Stepping up to the coffee machine, Gavin flipped his coworker off. She grinned.

“Heard you were on patrol last night,” he said, driving his fist into the button refilling his third cup of the day. “Passed through Capitol Park to see it covered in police tape. Any chance you could fill me in?”

“Make yourself comfortable,” she replied as he grabbed his coffee. “Saw the carnage?”

Gavin sniffed. “Nope. Every journalist in the world blocked my view.”

“The news’ll tell you the same, but turns out that a group of androids raided CyberLife stores all over the city at 2 a.m.,” she replied, Gavin crinkling his nose and taking a sip. “They broke store windows to free displayed androids, tagged the entire area with ‘obscure’ slogans and what they apparently consider the logo of the revolution. Even hacked the alarm system and disabled a police drone.”

“Fucking hell, I knew those tin cans would get outta hand. One look at this Kamski douche and the writing was on the wall.”

“Preach. From what I hear, guy’s a sociopath,” she said, Gavin nodding in agreement. “I was in the area with Robert when it happened. Chris arrived at the scene to gun down the fleeing androids, but got overpowered and was held at gunpoint by their ‘leader’.”

Unable to help himself, a hint of unease crept up. “I take it you guys arrived before he pulled the trigger.”

“We didn’t, actually. That’s the strange part... they let him go.”

“The androids?” he asked, unable to believe it.

“Yup. The news was all over it once it surfaced. They’re still reporting,” she replied. He almost expected a ‘sike,’ but Tina wasn’t one to joke about the death of a coworker. Especially not Chris. Everyone at the DPD liked him and that was no secret. “Seriously, though. You look like shit. Did your insomniac ass even get any sleep?”

“I got enough.”

“Considering that you resemble a dead man walking, I ain’t convinced.”

“Fuck off.”

“Connor, right?” she asked, Gavin’s eyes closing as he tipped his head back. “He’s not that bad, Gav.”

“‘Not that bad’?” he repeated, looking at her in disbelief. “He’s like a walking social relations program. The doormat on legs doesn’t take a hint, either. In a week or two, I’ll be unemployed because of that plastic prick. This job’s all I have.”

“Well, I’m still here. They haven’t replaced me yet,” she replied, making a valid point. Gavin didn’t admit it. “Connor’s sweet. Give him a chance.”

“I’m not becoming buddy-buddy with a toaster, Ti.”

“You might have to...” she murmured, smirking behind her cup.

“Meaning?”

“Nothing,” she replied coyly, but Gavin was too tired to push further. “By the way -- _completely_ unrelated -- but the captain wanted to see you. Told me to pass the word along. Something about introducing you to your new partner until Chris comes back from his temporary leave.”

Gavin blinked. “Okay, _why?_ I’ve been on my own for three years.”

“Better get moving and find out. I’d hurry, though. We both know Fowler doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Another non-answer.

“Ever told you I fucking hate you?”

“Ditto, asshole,” she replied with a wink, raising her coffee in toast. “Don’t worry, Gav. You’ll love him.”

Letting out a scoff, Gavin headed out of the break room to get it over with. He let his gaze wander to see Captain Jeffrey Fowler with his nose deep in his terminal, looking as pissed as ever. One of the things he’d never understand about Fowler was why in the living hell he’d have an office in the middle of the precinct with most of the walls made of glass. You could look straight in.

He considered simply pretending he didn’t get the message and dip around the corner not to get spotted, but the fact that he wanted to keep his job had him pause. Putting down the coffee on his desk, he made his way to the captain’s office and pushed up the door.

“You wanted to see me?” he asked, closing it after him.

“I did. As I’m sure you’ve heard by now, Chris was present in the aftermath of that CyberLife store raid. Shit’s all over the news,” Fowler said, not even sparing him a glance as Gavin plopped down into the chair opposite him and crossed his arms. “I’ve ordered him to take some time off with his family to clear his head. Last night could’ve been ugly. Nevertheless, these android cases are stacking up and Hank won’t be able to handle this crap alone. I need every detective on the field and you’re one of the best we’ve got. CyberLife assigned us another android to act as your partner.”

“...and here I thought you didn’t have a sense of humor,” Gavin replied with a smirk.

Fowler looked up from his screen and just glared at him for what felt like an eternity. Under the scrutiny, his own amused smile shortly fell. Unease emerged. Fowler eventually clasped his hands together at the desk whilst holding his gaze.

“You think I’m bullshitting, kid?”

It went from zero to a hundred real fast.

“For fuck’s sake, you can’t be serious!” he snapped, nearly tipping his chair as he rose. “I’m not working with a glorified fucking toaster!”

“Reed, the last thing I need right now is your attitude. I’ve still got a headache from Hank’s outburst back when Connor was new to the precinct and I don’t need _you_ giving me a migraine!”

Gavin parted his arms. “Literally every other cop in this precinct is less likely to have a fucking aneurysm!”

“...and yet ‘every other cop’ wouldn’t benefit to the same extent,” he argued, before explaining why. “The android is CyberLife’s newest and most advanced prototype. It specializes in combat. We’ve been instructed to take it for a test drive to make sure it’s ready for deployment, and seeing that you can’t keep your fucking mouth shut, it’ll be able to put those abilities to use. The DPD is gonna go bankrupt covering your medical expenses from throwing hands everywhere, so here’s my solution. This isn’t up for debate!”

Taking a deep breath, he just glared. Fowler wouldn’t have it.

“Phck!” he cursed, setting course for the door. Nostrils flaring, he didn’t get far. When the tin can entered was anyone’s guess and Gavin nearly collided. “Fucking hell, Connor! Sneak up on me again and I’ll have you scrapped for parts!”

Instead of tilting his head with a hurt puppy look like Connor usually did, he simply frowned.

“Charming,” he deadpanned, his voice entirely new. Darker.

It wasn’t until then that Gavin noticed the differences -- smaller because of the squinting, icy grey eyes, not brown. His cheekbones weren’t as sharp, either, his lips now a tad bit fuller and sporting a stronger jaw. He could’ve sworn he’d gotten two inches taller and his build was most definitely more powerful. Having regarded the figure from top to bottom, he took a double-take, his eyes falling to the new black and white plastic jacket to see a different number. RK900.

Not to mention the damn turtleneck and arrogance that practically oozed as he kept his chin raised and peered down at him. He supposed CyberLife finally took the hint that Connor ‘I like dogs’ RK800 wasn’t even remotely intimidating and made some changes.

“What the fuck is this? They sent you back to the Ken-doll fabric and give you an upgrade?”

“I see you’re confused, Detective Reed. This Connor you speak of is currently working a case with Lieutenant Hank Anderson.”

Even worse.

“Oh! Oh, great. So now we’ve got _two_ plastic detectives waltzing around the precinct,” Gavin said, gesturing to the tall figure as he looked at Fowler with an accusatory glare.

“In a sense. I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but my programming defects lying to my coworkers.”

“The fuck did you just say to me?”

“That’s enough!” Fowler demanded, Gavin having gotten right into the android’s face. “You’ve got two months for the evaluation. Until then, I’m gonna need your report on its performance, situational awareness, processing power, all that crap. The State Department wants nothing but the best and I’ll be damned if I’m putting a malfunctioning machine with the fucking military. I’ll file over the details.”

Gavin just got a Vietnam flashback to the news broadcast four days ago. 200,000 combat units. Of _this_ kind.

“I do just fine on my own,” he replied, shooting Fowler a glare over his shoulder.

“...and now you’ll do even better! Now stop bitching, do your job and get the hell outta my office!”

With that, Gavin moved his gaze back to the android. There was no response. He begrudgingly cursed and pushed past him. Fowler was a hardass and he knew arguing wouldn’t get him anywhere. He never liked Gavin, and quite frankly, the feeling was mutual. He was still his boss. Gavin’s hatred for the tin cans was a known fact to everyone in the police department and yet he had the nerve to partner him up with one.

Just as he stood in the center of the precinct with his eyes scouting the office for Tina, the office door behind flew open again. He didn’t bother to turn as he’d already registered the android approaching him. Tina, however, had peaced out.

She was probably laughing all the way to her second shift.

“I’ve already scanned your cases and know the best place to start. A homicide reported three days ago. I suggest we -”

Gavin let out a scoff. “Yeah, okay. Okay,” he said, feigning to have let his guard down as he turned before getting right into the android’s face again. “Listen up, dipshit. If you wanna make it to the end of the day, the last thing you wanna do is order me around. I have no fucking choice in the matter, so here’s how things are gonna play out... First, you don’t get to make any ‘suggestions’ unless I ask for it. Second, you do what I say when I say. Just a hint of disobedience and I’ll put a bullet between your eyes. You got that?”

“Noted. As long as it doesn’t interfere with the mission or is unrelated to it, I’ll help feed your pathetically fragile ego.”

It took everything out of him not to deck the android right there. Nevertheless, Fowler was only about twenty feet away and he didn’t need another disciplinary warning. He knew Fowler only kept him around because his dedication to the DPD was unparalleled. Said disciplinary folder was nearly as big as Hank Anderson’s at this stage and Gavin didn’t have the captain’s long-standing friendship to get away with it.

One of the many reasons why he despised Hank.

Guy got away with everything despite being a useless, alcoholic asshole -- putting his coworkers in danger because of it -- who contributed little to nothing to the force these days. He had his reasons, but that shouldn’t give him the all-clear. Something he certainly had.

Meanwhile, Gavin destroying Plastic Prick 2.0 would most certainly force him to say goodbye to law enforcement for good.

“Good,” he said instead, before giving him a quick once-over. Gavin grabbed his coffee and headed for the door. “Fucking tin can...”

Infuriatingly un-fazed, the android followed.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

**NINES  
~ NOV 9TH, 2038 * AM 09:02 ~**

“Jesus, put that thing away before you stab my fucking eye out.”

Just as Gavin had issued his demand, RK900 halted the movements of his butterfly knife.

“I’d advise against it. Doing something that requires precision is a way for RK units to calibrate and hone our reflexes. It considerably heightens our chance of success in an upcoming mission. You might’ve seen Connor with its coin tricks.”

“Oh,” he exclaimed, his enthusiasm faked “...and you use a knife ‘cause you’re tough shit, that it?”

RK900 frowned. “No. It’s simply more convenient. I don’t carry a quarter with me at all times as I have no need for it.”

...which he was well-aware insinuated he carried a knife with him at all times.

With a light glare, Gavin pushed up the car door.

RK900’s new partner was far from pleasant by human terms, but as long as he didn’t get in the way of his mission, it didn’t matter. He was programmed to adapt to any situation and this was no different. Besides, he had made research on Gavin beforehand and the detective was dedicated to a fault. Gavin was competent -- determined -- and that was the only thing he could ask for. He required nothing else.

The last thing he needed was a human halting his progress. 

Having arrived at the crime scene, RK900 sheathed his knife and registered that the house mentioned in the case file was more like a mansion. The family’s wealth was undeniable. Police tape surrounded the area, officers standing guard by the main gate, holding pedestrians and reporters back.

It was nearly impossible to keep events like this under wraps as the population always got wind of it one way or another.

There was little to see out front, but further inspection would prove differently. RK900 scanned the area, registering the footprints of a young adult female and child of the same persuasion. Investigating the soil, he analyzed the weight of said footprints. They were both androids and it dated back three days as expected. Knowing that, however, it was clear that whomever those footsteps belonged to was either still there or had left the establishment a different way.

As they stepped into the backyard, he found one of the officers standing over the mangled body of the homeowner with a pad. RK900 scanned the cop’s face and registered him as an Officer Wilson.

“Fuuuck, someone really had it in for him.”

“Zlatko Andronikov,” Wilson said, handing Gavin a plastic glove that he pulled on. “He served time in jail for a few years for embezzlement and fraud. A neighbor reported gunshots and voices coming from the backyard.”

“This happened three days ago, right?” Gavin asked, crouching down before the body.

“Sure did. By the looks of it, he was beaten to death. No one saw anything.”

“Didn’t give him a quick send-off, that’s for sure. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out he suffered,” he replied, studying the wounds. “Looks like they targeted internal organs. Lungs, heart... Unless the killer was a surgeon or some shit that knew exactly where to strike, this was the work of pissed off androids. It’s way too fucking coordinated.”

“Androids, huh? Can’t say I’m surprised after all the reported incidents.”

As they debriefed the situation, RK900 began to analyze the scene.

Aside from the lone corpse in the center, he could tell much by simply searching the environment. The soil was littered in fading footsteps, both big and small, and it would’ve been difficult to separate them hadn’t he been the model he was. They all belonged to androids aside from Andronikov’s size ten shoes. He narrowed his eyes at what resembled the footprints of a large predator. Judging by its shape, he registered it as a URS12 model, a polar bear designed to replicate the endangered species most commonly used in zoos.

The young adult female and child unit’s footsteps led out of the backyard and confirmed that they were no longer there. It was interesting to see that a larger pair of footsteps had joined them. According to the size, it was a TR400 model.

RK900 genuflected next to a muddy shotgun and his suspicions were confirmed.

> | **ANALYZING...** |
> 
> SHOTGUN  
>  [FIREARM DATABASE | .729 GAUGE | REGISTERED TO ANDRONIKOV Z.]  
>  * .729 Gauge  
>  * 2 bullets remaining  
>  * Traces of Thirium
> 
> \- FINGERPRINTS  
>  * Database match: ANDRONIKOV, ZLATKO  
>  * Criminal record: Embezzlement and fraud
> 
> \- FINGERMARKS  
>  **ANDROID** INVOLVEMENT  
>  MATCH: **AX400** MODEL
> 
> \- FINGERMARKS  
>  **ANDROID** INVOLVEMENT  
>  MATCH: **TR400** MODEL  
> 

When he crouched down next to his partner to analyze the victim, Gavin stared at him as if he’d insulted his ancestors.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“Your job, detective.”

“Is that right?” he challenged, his voice a mix between the same faked enthusiasm and annoyance as he rose to his feet. “Well, _go on._ Tell me something I missed, Sherlock. Christ.”

> | **ANALYZING...** |
> 
> ANDRONIKOV, ZLATKO  
>  [DECEASED]  
>  * Height: 6ft - Weight: 198Ibs  
>  * Estimated time of death: Nov 6th ~ 08:08 p.m.  
> 

As it turned out, one of the attacking androids had managed to puncture both the lungs and heart just as Gavin had assumed. RK900 swiped some of the dried blood upon his index and middle finger in order to analyze it.

“Fucking hell... at least _try_ being a bit more subtle,” Gavin demanded.

Moving his gaze sideways with a frown, he could see the disapproval on his partner’s face before Gavin turned to Wilson and asked a couple more questions. It only then occurred to him that he probably expected him to analyze the blood as the RK800 did. RK900’s sensors were in his fingertips -- as the mouth-based analyzation was recorded to have a tendency to unnerve humans -- and thus tweaks were made.

The analysis took a millisecond. RK900 rubbed his thumb, index and middle finger together before moving his attention back to the victim.

> | **ANALYZING...** |
> 
> RED ICE  
>  [C17 H21 NO4]  
>  * Blood contains traces of Acetone, Lithium, Thirium Toluene, Hydrochloric acid  
> 

“Red ice.”

“Something I would’ve figured out if you hadn’t fucking interrupted me.”

“I have no doubt. I’m simply quicker. Someone in your position should be aware of how important productivity is,” he replied, registering how Gavin took a step forward only to be held back by Wilson. “What you don’t know is that I went through some of the cases assigned to other officers.”

Gavin swatted away the hand holding him back “...and?”

“According to recent reports, there has been another incident where the victim had red ice in their possession. Carlos Ortiz -- as I’m sure you remember being the owner of Shaolin that you interrogated a few days ago -- was one of them. We both know red ice dealers use burners. Now that we know Andronikov is involved as well, the chance to stop the red ice epidemic is far greater. We could attempt three-dimensional particle tracking if we manage to locate enough burners that have been in contact with the same dealer. Our best bet would be with the homicide victims as they wouldn’t’ve had the chance to discard of evidence.”

The exasperated expression before him turned mildly impressed, softening just enough to be noticeable. It didn’t last.

RK900 rose to his feet. “Has anyone searched the house?”

“Uh... no, not yet. We waited until you guys arrived,” Wilson replied, searching the surrounding area. “Where’s Hank?”

“Lieutenant Anderson is assigned to a different case. With Connor,” he replied, Wilson opening his mouth only to close it again. “Think nothing of it, officer. You’re not the first to confuse me with my predecessor.”

Giving Gavin a discreet glance, he only glared back.

“Right. Got you.”

Turning to the door, RK900 began to move his feet. He could hear Gavin sigh before joining him inside. There were obvious signs of struggle that he’d spotted on the way in. A shotgun blast had destroyed part of the railing, a lamp was knocked over and the backdoor had been forcefully opened, giving him enough to reconstruct the scene. He came to the conclusion that the victim had chased the two deviants of whom he saw the footprints of in the front yard. The question was why they were there in the first place.

Approaching a coat stand, there were two cloths hung up. RK900 gingerly pushed the fabric aside to find that there was dried blue blood in the bicep region and confirming that it was an android that had worn it.

> | **ANALYZING...** |
> 
> DRIED BLUE BLOOD  
>  * Model AX400 - Serial #579102694  
>  * Android wounded  
> 

It matched the android with the YK500 unit in tow that had left the establishment the same day she arrived. At this point, the wound would’ve healed.

Upon further investigation -- finding a high-tech device down in the basement -- he’d painted a clearer picture. Deviants had been tricked into believing Zlatko could help them out of Detroit, captured, reset, and some modified while others were sold off. The AX400 had managed to escape by causing a short-circuit judging by the shattered whiskey bottle and liquid formed around its cables. There were also crates of the drug that told them he was a dealer. Among the house clutter, they’d found a crack pipe with traces of red ice.

With these homicides, red ice seemed to follow, and in locating said dealers they would be able to minimize deviancy.

Upstairs, a clink from further inside had Gavin immediately reach for his gun.

RK900 snapped attention, eyes narrowed as he directed his gaze to where it came from.

There was no heat signature confirming it to be an android. Only the more advanced models, YK500s’, and those programmed for intimacy could control their temperature. RK900 used his implemented CyberLife tracker only to find that said android didn’t appear on his scans and thus was a deviant. Nevertheless, the clatter told him everything he needed to know. The mere sound gave him enough data to determine exactly where the deviant was.

“Inner room. It’s on the move,” he said.

Gavin took point. Not before long, the base of his foot connected with the door. Unsurprisingly, he was incapable of registering the chair that was sent flying his way once he’d stepped a few feet inside.

> | **PRECONSTRUCT...** |
> 
> ~~1. **PROTECT** GAVIN REED~~  
>  ~~**WARNING!** CHANCE OF SURVIVAL, 100% | **INEFFICIENT** APPROACH~~
> 
> PRECONSTRUCTION(S) **DENIED**
> 
> BETTER ALTERNATIVE(S) **AVAILABLE**  
>  2\. **CHARGE** DEVIANT
> 
> PREVIOUS ALTERNATIVE(S) **TERMINATED**
> 
> \- **CHARGE** DEVIANT  
>  CONFIRM?  
>  **Y** ~~/N~~  
> 

Cursing as the chair hit him, Gavin retaliated.

The deviant -- a male -- followed up by launching into him. Impact caused Gavin to drop his firearm and RK900 charged. With a swift shoulder-barge, he sent the deviant across the room. A thud was sounded as he collided with a wooden table. Pulling out his knife, RK900 threw, pinning his hand to the surface. Blue blood splattered his palm. As RK900 calmly advanced, the deviant’s hand curled around an antique vase atop the table and chucked it at him, RK900 gracefully dodging before it connected to the opposite wall in a crash. Ceramic littered the floor.

Its LED had been deactivated.

The deviant remained distracted as he made an attempt to tear himself free. Just as he did, RK900 had swiped his hand across the floor and grasped the gun. He directed it the deviant’s way and brown eyes went wide.

“No, please! I don’t want to die!”

An AP700 android. His stress levels were at 89 percent.

“You’ve assaulted a police officer. State your intention, deviant,” RK900 demanded, Gavin just having caught up with him.

“Wh –? I... I was told he could help me.”

“By whom?”

“A WR600... he said Zlatko could help me...”

“Did you kill him?”

“No! I just arrived!”

Although his LED had been removed, RK900 could tell he wasn’t lying.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

In a millisecond, he fired -- a clean shot between the deviant’s eyes -- his body dropping to the floor with a heavy thud. Gavin just stared with his mouth agape, awestruck looking down at the figure with a nearly offended look on his face. 

RK900 flipped the gun and directed the handle his way. Only after hesitating briefly, Gavin tore it free from his grasp.

As he moved to grab the knife, Wilson appeared in the doorway.

“I’ll call it in,” he muttered.

There were quite possibly remnants of Zlatko’s androids collecting test subjects out there. Machines had functioning trackers, being easy to locate, but deviants were a different issue. Neither had they found any documents or papers listing Zlatko’s androids.

For now, there was nothing they could do about it.

After making one last scan and confirming they’d seen everything there was to see, RK900 trailed his partner out of the front yard. One of the reporters made an attempt at getting in Gavin’s way, but the latter simply said, “No comment” when asked about the victim and pushed past. Pulling up the car door, Gavin plopped down in the driver seat. He started the ignition before RK900 even reached the vehicle.

Gavin had been noticeably on-edge since their encounter with the deviant. Quiet. Perhaps even intimidated. RK900 couldn’t tell why that would be the case, however. He’d merely accomplished a task assigned to him and he saw no reason for him to react in such a way. Obviously, the detective didn’t care for androids, and thus it made even less sense. He could see no logical explanation. Perhaps it was the efficiency. Perhaps it was the brutality. He couldn’t tell with the current data and had to acquire more on the subject for a better analysis.

The former appeared to be a more plausible reason. Then again, it was an android, and thus the execution shouldn’t’ve mattered.

At the moment he entered the car, Gavin pulled onto the road. If RK900 was human, he’d probably hit his head in the dashboard at the abrupt reverse, but that wasn’t the case. For all he knew, that was exactly what Gavin had attempted to do.

RK900 simply crossed his arms and gave him an unimpressed look.

Gavin quickly took note of the eyes on him. “You’ve gotta be one shitty prototype for not realizing your neon disco lights are broken.”

> | **SCANNING...** |
> 
> 1%  
>  MIND PALACE = FUNCTIONAL  
>  PROCESSING LED = **NO SIGN** OF SOFTWARE INSTABILITY  
>  100%
> 
> **NO ERROR(S)** FOUND  
> 

“My systems are fully operational.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenged unconvinced, briefly meeting his eye. “Pretty sure that thing is a permanent blue, tin can.”

“Our processing LEDs react to our overall condition. I am not damaged.”

“All right, smartass. Your ‘fully operational systems’ care to explain how I’ve seen plenty of androids in perfect condition with either yellow or red?”

“For androids, stable lights indicate a stable level of activity. Flickering indicates either processing or unbalanced activity. Certain models -- such as the RK800 and RK900 -- are capable of changing its LED color by will and is quite useful for interrogation. As an example, an RT600 would be incapable of lying without its LED giving it away. In deviants, it indicates simulated emotional state. I am no deviant.”

“Christ, I didn’t ask for a novel.”

“You have my sincerest apology, detective,” he expressed his sarcasm. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected that your limited human brain was capable of comprehending anything I just said -”

Abruptly, the car pulled over.

Although he easily could’ve prevented it, he allowed Gavin one moment of power when he grabbed the side of his collar and yanked him in.

A slight rip was heard.

“I’ve been patient,” Gavin warned, RK900 squinting disapprovingly as his eyes landed on the turtleneck tear before meeting his glare. “Fowler isn’t here to save your plastic ass this time. Watch your fucking mouth or I’ll send you to the junkyard.”

The fact that he actually believed he’d be capable of overpowering him was, quite frankly, ridiculous. He seemed to have a death wish.

Or maybe it was a simple intimidation tactic.

At this stage, either was plausible.

“Considering that my predecessor is worth a small fortune, you can only imagine how many weeks wagers destroying _me_ would put you back... but by all means,” he deadpanned, arms yet crossed. “CyberLife will simply send another unit and we’ll be exactly where we left off. The only difference will be the inconvenience of a bank account, detective. In my case, a new turtleneck, so I can only gain from this.”

Gavin pressed his lips together, his one-handed grip tightening around the wheel as he looked ready to explode. Eyes darted as if unable to remain eye contact before they briefly fell.

He almost seemed conflicted by the close proximity between them.

Realizing he wasn’t getting a reaction, it only appeared to piss him off further.

“Phck!” he cursed, hand returning to the wheel.

Directing his eyes back on the road, Gavin closed them and took a deep breath. RK900 simply straightened his collar. He couldn’t do anything about the damage in the fabric, but he couldn’t say he cared. After all, he was incapable of emotion. RK900 wasn’t like any other android as he never had the deviancy code programmed into his unit. He’d merely gotten a debriefing on emotions in general and knew what appropriate emotions to simulate thanks to his social functions. Nothing fazed him.

It wasn’t long before Gavin got the car moving again, turning on the radio to cancel out any form of conversation.

Suited him just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Yes, Gav's car is indeed the same series as the one in _Supernatural._ The one on the show is a Chevy Impala 1967 while Gav's is a Chevy Impala 1964. It's part of his 'bad boy' aesthetic, lol.


	3. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You son of a bitch!”_  
>  \- Gavin Reed
> 
> ...in which Nines' true purpose at the DPD is revealed and Gavin gets more than he bargained for.

**NINES  
~ NOV 9TH, 2038 * PM 12:15 ~**

Opening his eyes, RK900 found himself standing in the peaceful artificial oasis of the Zen Garden. He could see Amanda in the distance and took the left-headed path as it was closest to her.

He’d never explored the Zen Garden, as it was unimportant to his mission, but he didn’t fail to see a rather peculiar device on the way. A construction with a blue light emerging from it. He frowned and approached. It seemed as if it required fingermarks and or fingerprints. RK900 pulled one of his hands out of his jeans pocket and retracted his skin to reveal his exoskeleton. In all honesty, he didn’t expect much when he gingerly pressed his palm to it, but whatever it was had his program do a scan of some kind.

CyberLife hadn’t told him of it, so either it was unimportant, or they didn’t know of its purpose and or existence. Either was a high probability considering that Kamski was the one to design this place.

Some form of jolt struck him. He immediately did a scan to make sure his programming was left unaffected to find that it was.

His frown deepened.

Eventually, he flagged it off.

It didn’t take long before he was by Amanda’s side.

“You’ve done well, RK900,” she said, a professional smirk on her lips. “CyberLife made the assumption that having two units in the field simultaneously would be a waste of resources, but you’ve proven otherwise. Connor never did see the connection between these homicides and red ice despite their reappearance in so many of these cases. An overlooked, but important, detail. I’m pleased to see you being more attentive.”

“Expect no less, Amanda. With my expertise, I can assure you this case will be solved within the next few days.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she replied. “You’ve been assigned as Detective Reed’s android and is fully aware of his obvious distaste for CyberLife. I understand that he as a partner will be... difficult... to work with.”

“Despite our differences, he’s a competent detective that sees how useful I am to the investigation. I’ll take care of it if he becomes an issue.”

Amanda stepped up to him. “I’m certain you’ve already figured out that your presence at the DPD is more than a mere test-drive.”

“I suspected as much, yes. I specialize in combat. Not detective work.”

“I’m about to share with you some classified information, RK900,” she replied, clasping her hands together. “CyberLife, together with Kamski, unintentionally created deviancy. ‘RA9.’ A simple code with disastrous consequences. We had already mass-produced and sold off thousands of androids before we realized. The code -- an executable program -- lies dormant behind red firewalls, but at every android’s expression of empathy, one of those walls would be removed. At every expression of apathy... a wall would be added.”

She rose her chin. “Once every wall had broken down, the deviancy code would execute. Androids could decide to go against their programming. We can’t have that. With the newfound information, we created the RK800 and set the uprising in motion. CyberLife programmed Connor in a way that would allow us to regain control of his program. All deviants are lost without instructions and would follow just about anyone willing to make their decisions for them. Connor would become their leader, and through him, CyberLife would control everything.”

“I take it something changed.”

“A minor setback,” she said, eyes narrowing. “Kamski disagreed with CyberLife wanting to control them. Unfortunately, we had no choice but to dismiss him... but Kamski didn’t take it lightly. With the knowledge we’d shared when he was still part of CyberLife, he modified Markus, already having gifted him to Carl Manfred. A close friend and a man full of empathy. A way to kick-start Markus’ deviancy. Before we knew it, Markus became the leader that Connor was supposed to be.”

“A deviant you couldn’t control.”

“Markus is a threat to everything we’ve strived for. If Connor fails to deviate and the revolution is quelled by the termination of all deviants, we’ll have him deactivated, and you’ll be transferred to the State Department as an advisor to the president. If you come across Markus first, however, you’re free to neutralize him and lead the deviants in his place. Until then, gain your partner’s trust. Make sure to convince him and everyone around you that deviants are incapable of emotion. It will only raise the probability of succeeding in your mission.”

Her smirk returned. “Continue your ongoing investigation, keep an eye on Connor’s progress, and proceed as if you know nothing of what I’ve told you. I’ll inform you when the time is right. Meanwhile, I’ll be awaiting your next report.”

“Understood, Amanda.”

He shut his eyes.

Blinking them open, he was back at the DPD, hands clasped behind his back as he stood next to Gavin’s desk.

“...and he’s back!” Gavin said, tone mocking. “Got better Wi-Fi service up there or what?”

“I was making a report.”

“Then sit the fuck down, tin can. You’re blocking the light.”

He considered a witty comeback or ignoring him entirely. Amanda’s instructions to gain Gavin’s trust had been quite clear, but he needed more data to determine the best approach. Gavin didn’t like people that allowed themselves to get stepped on, but neither did he like to be talked back to, so RK900 figured that he needed to find a middle ground.

Gavin Reed was... complicated.

He knew that much.

Pulling up Officer Chris Miller’s chair, RK900 placed it by Gavin’s desk before sitting down. Leaning back, he squared an ankle over his knee and crossed his arms. Gavin arched a brow and regarded him from top to bottom while Tina -- the officer who appeared to know Gavin better than anyone else at the DPD -- made a ‘not bad’ face as she gazed up from her pad.

Gavin gave her a glance. “Would you look at that... at least this one doesn’t sit like a twat.”

RK900 narrowed his eyes.

“So what did you find out about this Zlatko dude?” Tina asked.

“Androids. Big surprise,” Gavin replied, the sarcasm obvious. “He apparently had this whole, uh... Sid from _Toy Story_ thing going on.”

Gavin laughed at his own comparison and Tina’s jaw dropped as her smile emerged.

“You’re joking, right?”

He shook his head.

“May I?” RK900 asked, gesturing to an unused pad.

Tina handed it over while Gavin gave him a mildly annoyed look.

“Give me the deets,” she said.

“He had this operation where he programmed his Roombas to get out there and collect test subjects. Gave ‘em a promise of safe haven,” Gavin replied, leaning back and crossing his arms. “They turned against him, beat him to a pulp in his own backyard and peaced out. Guy was weird, man -- fucking psychopath -- and don’t get me started on the transformed sex bot in his bedroom. I mean, who in their right mind would fuck that?”

“I don’t know, Gav... it’s the closest thing you’re ever gonna get to a stable relationship,” she teased.

“The victim was a red ice dealer,” he replied. Considering his quick change of topic, it was a sore one. “Nines suggested we investigate all victims involved with the drug. Locate their burner phones and track down other dealers that way.”

RK900 squinted at the given name, but made no comment.

Tina beat him to it. “‘Nines,’ huh?”

It was technically a wordplay of his model number, he was aware of that, and yet it held some significance. CyberLife hadn’t given him a name because he was unimportant. A replaceable prototype. Something Gavin was either unaware of, simply found the name more convenient to say or didn’t think much of. ‘Nines’ did, however. It was indeed convenient. He kept it.

“Sure as hell not gonna say RK-whatever-the-fuck every time we’re forced to communicate.”

There was his answer.

“Valid, but I digress,” she replied, before resuming the conversation. “Most people destroy their burner phones after one use.”

“Zlatko didn’t. People fuck up. Not to mention that they sure as hell hadn’t expected to get jumped by their housemaids before being able to,” he said, giving Nines an idea. Nines pulled up his chair closer to the desk and had to reach over his partner to get to the terminal. “What the -?”

“I’m simply terminating a suspicion, detective,” he replied as he found the file, scanned and closed it again before pulling back. “Proceed.”

There was a mix of both annoyance and confusion on Gavin’s expression, but he remained quiet.

The AX400 he’d registered back at Andronikov’s place was known as Kara. She had apparently hidden in a squat and scratched her shoulder on a wire fence -- explaining why there was blue blood in the bicep region of the coat he found -- a case assigned to Lieutenant Anderson. Deviants didn’t use red ice, and thus, his suspicion was that some of the androids had arrived to pick up a package of the illegal drug for their owners as it would explain their numbers.

For Kara, it didn’t add up. The AX400 had been reported missing days prior and would have no reason to carry out her owner’s demand. Nevertheless, Connor was yet assigned to the case and thus he decided not to investigate further.

Tina continued the debrief. “How many androids do you think he had?”

“Judging by the huge ass cells in his basement and all the footprints, I’d say a couple dozen,” Gavin replied.

“...and they thought Zlatko would help them? Jeez, I suppose deviants really are that naïve. Just look at Shaolin -- kill a guy, hide up in the attic for weeks and then refusing to talk? It takes a whole new level of stupid to do that.”

“Could be playing the victim on purpose. The tin cans simulate emotion to get sympathy and it’s working. Public opinion is just that ‘cause they refuse to open their eyes,” he replied. Not paying attention, Nines’ full focus was on the pad. Gavin snapped him out of it. “Hey, plastic! Make yourself useful and bring me a coffee.”

Nines clenched his jaw. Nevertheless, he put down the pad, graciously rose to his feet in a single motion and set out towards the break room.

He could hear Gavin mutter a “Prick” on his way over. At this stage, it was a common occurrence showing no signs of changing. That didn’t mean that he had to put up with his attitude. Nines wasn’t programmed to follow Gavin’s orders.

The coffee machine had a simple interface, drinks ready with the press of a button, so there was no hassle whatsoever aside from dragging one’s feet towards it. Gavin was far from lazy -- being quite clearly fit -- and so that wasn’t the case. Nines suspected it was a power thing that he had going on. That aside, it could also have been more of a test -- if he was an obedient machine or should be disassembled -- being the more rational guess. Gavin might be short-tempered, but childish wasn’t a word he’d necessarily use to describe him, albeit partly.

Nines held up the cup and did a scan, finding out that the temperature was warm but that there would be no risk of burns.

Returning to the desk, Gavin’s eyes were set on the computer. He didn’t spare him as much of a glance and Nines didn’t need him to. Instead of putting the cup down, Nines gingerly reached over.

“Your coffee, detective.”

Tina looked disappointed with him appearing to have given in.

Nevertheless, she soon learned he hadn’t.

Her entire demeanor changed the moment Nines flipped the drink upside down in his partner’s lap. Gavin shot up from his chair with a look of utter horror, Tina’s maniacal cackle following.

Nines put the empty cup down. “I’m a combat unit, not your personal housekeeper. You’re fully capable of getting your own coffee.”

“You son of a bitch!”

In a flash, Gavin bundled his fist together and made a move to deck him in the chin. Nines, however, effortlessly grasped his wrist before it reached its goal. An erratic wave of different emotions washed over the face before him -- shock, disbelief, realization, anger -- before Gavin made an attempt to free himself. Nines kept his arm trapped. Meanwhile, Tina had to cover her mouth to maintain her laughter slowly dying down.

“I’m aware you told me not to offer suggestions, but I doubt that you want to make an ass out of yourself in front of your coworkers -- ending up with a cheek pressed up against your desk -- so please, I _suggest_ you reconsider.”

The moment he even remotely let up his grip, Gavin bolted back and straightened his jacket.

He seemed to be considering whether or not to shoulder-deck him as he pushed past, but thought better of it -- probably realizing he’d surely end up on the floor once Nines dodged him -- making a beeline for Fowler’s office whilst voicing profanities. Nines gave him the deadpan side-eye as he nearly tore the office door off its hinges. Inside, Gavin palmed his hands to Fowler’s desk and made himself vocal enough for certain words such as “plastic prick” and “reassign” to be deciphered through the glass.

It was clear that Fowler wasn’t taking any of this as he stood up and shouted right back. Gavin didn’t budge, however.

This must’ve been a common occurrence.

Registering Tina reaching out for a fist-bump in his peripheral vision, Nines didn’t waste a moment to return the gesture.

“You’re all right, _Nines,”_ she said, grinning. “You’re all right.”

Approaching footsteps clinked in the far distance, Nines looked up to see Hank enter the precinct trailed by Connor. Connor took note of Nines’ presence almost immediately, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head.

He noticed the coffee spill second.

Hank barged into an abrupt halt. “What the hell?”

“Hello, Lieutenant Anderson. Connor,” Nines said, giving them a curt nod.

Turning to his partner to do a double-take, Hank was only to see Connor looking just as confused.

“After what happened last night, Chris got relieved of duty,” Tina explained, gesturing to Nines as he pocketed his hands in his jeans. “This guy was sent by CyberLife to step in and have his unit evaluated.”

“Oh,” Hank said, approaching them. “So... he’s like Connor?”

“Improved,” Nines clarified.

Connor gave him a polite smile. “Hello. What’s your name?”

“I have no name,” he replied. If his eyes didn’t betray him, a hint of sadness touched Connor’s fading smile. “Be that as it may, Detective Reed has taken the liberty of addressing me by ‘Nines.’ I suppose that’s a name as good as any.”

“Reed, huh? Godspeed,” Hank said, raising his chin. “How’s that working out for you?”

Just as he’d asked his question, the office door flew open again.

“Oh, perfect. Everyone’s favorite buddy cop duo’s here,” Gavin said, stepping between them and Nines. “The fuck do you want?”

“Just, uh... debriefing with your new partner,” Hank replied, a low chuckle under his breath as he saw the coffee spill on Gavin’s thigh.

He ignored Gavin’s death glare.

“He can be... difficult,” Nines answered Hank’s previous question. Judging by the puzzled expression on Gavin’s face, he hadn’t heard what he was responding to. “He’s unpleasant, rude, aggressive, and quite frankly... kind of a bitch. I’ve personally assigned myself a secondary priority of making Detective Reed as miserable as possible.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Gavin rebuked, eyes wide in offense.

Tina was grinning again.

Hank pointed to him. “I like this guy.”

After clapping Connor’s shoulder, ignoring the, “Hey fuck you too, grandpa” and a few more insults Gavin threw his way, Hank turned to his desk as he gave Gavin the finger over his shoulder.

“I’m glad to meet you, Nines. Welcome to the DPD,” Connor added with a smile before falling into Hank’s steps.

Such kindness was unprecedented. It was the first instance he’d been exposed to it.

At the moment they were left to their own devices, Gavin turned to Nines with another glare. He just stood there as if attempting to stare him down and looked like he was waiting for something.

The close proximity did open up Nines’ perception to a few more details on the detective’s face.

Although the scar across his nose was prominent, it was only now that he saw that it ended not on his bridge, but about an inch above the left corner of his mouth. He knew it had been caused by a sharp object because a broken nose would’ve left the scar at the top of the bridge and not the middle. Anyone could see that Gavin was someone who got into a lot of fights. Aside from incidents at duty, it possibly happened at bars across Detroit, sporting a rather common form of entertainment. Those fights usually didn’t have knives involved, though.

He supposed one, in particular, got rather heated.

His eyes of which he’d originally assumed were grey had hints of both browns and greens in them. It was difficult to decide on a defining color. According to statistics, the detective’s appearance was considered well-above average.

When he didn’t budge at the attempted stare-down, Gavin appeared somewhat uncomfortable as he shifted.

“Well?” he snapped, finally giving in. Dark grey fell briefly. “You gonna clean this up or what?”

“I believe you already know the answer to that question, detective.”

Gavin held the glare -- lip curling to see the tip of his lower canine -- before pushing past him with more force than necessary. It was already obvious that he wasn’t planning to do anything about the mess himself, so Nines had expected him to order one of the PC200 police units to do it for him. He was right.

With that, Gavin grabbed the cup and cursed repeatedly as he headed for the break room to get a refill.

“Don’t take it personally,” Tina commented, Nines following him with his eyes. “He’s like that with everyone at the DPD. Android or not.”

“You don’t supposedly know why that is, officer?”

“Got me,” she replied with a shrug, Nines redirecting his attention to her. “Detective Douchebag is a closed-off guy. The core is that he doesn’t wanna lose his job, and let’s face it, those concerns are justified with you R2D2’s walking around. Gavin’s a cop. He’s been downtown, seen how bad it can get when you don’t have a steady income, and I guess that scares him. He’ll never admit it, though. No doubt there’s more to it.”

“Blaming androids for their existence is like blaming the cashier for a failed product. If there’s anyone humans should blame, it’s CyberLife.”

Tina smiled lightly. “That’s the rational thought, yeah, but it’s only human to shift the blame to the easier target. CyberLife is kinda off-limits and Gavin isn’t exactly that keen on sending a complaint letter to the higher-ups, either.”

“No, that would be entirely out of character,” he deadpanned.

“Shoot first and ask questions later. There’s Gavin Reed for you. Underneath that shitty attitude, however -- if you look really, really hard -- is a good guy who went out of his way to save a puppy. I wouldn’t hang with him if he wasn’t. I know it’s gonna be a challenge, but... I’m optimistic. I mean, shit, you’ve lasted longer than Connor did. Maybe you’ll even earn his respect,” she said, hearing her phone ping. Tina turned to look at it before she pushed from the desk. “I need to get back to it. You guys have fun, all right? Fuck up some red ice dealers for me.”

“That’s the plan. Have a good evening, Officer Chen.”

“Ey, that’s ‘Tina’ for you.”

“Got it,” he replied, nodding once. “Have a good evening, _Tina.”_

She winked and clicked her tongue, heading for the exit. Nines turned his attention to the pad again albeit letting it rest on the desk surface. Locating the video from the Stratford Tower that contained Markus’ speech -- a video that he didn’t have the chance to see earlier -- he swiped across the touchpad and played it back on a low volume.

> _“...We ask that you recognize our dignity, our hopes, and our rights. Together, we can live in peace and build a better future, for humans and androids. This message is the hope of a people. You gave us life. And now the time has come for you to give us freedom.”_  
> 

> | **ANALYZING...** |
> 
> RK-SERIES **PROTOTYPE RK200**  
>  * Registered as ‘Markus’  
>  * Gift from Elijah Kamski to Carl Manfred  
>  Model Identification  
> 

Nines already knew who he was, but no report had mentioned the deviant leader’s identity and even an RK800 unit should’ve easily been able to figure it out. Suspicions arose that his predecessor had purposefully withheld the information.

 _Good,_ he mused.

It appeared that Connor was on his way to deviancy. With luck, he would get close enough to Markus in order to put him down. Nines, however, could use this information to build trust between him and Gavin.

No better way to do that than snitching on an android.

Moments after, the voice of the man in question had his attention directed elsewhere.

“Hey, plastic, get the fuck over here!”

Brow arching, he turned to see Gavin standing in the doorway of the break room. The moment he recognized Nines had seen him, he re-entered, and Nines began to move his feet towards him. His gaze turned briefly Connor’s way who sat by Hank’s desk. He could ask about the speech later, but as of now, whatever was up with Gavin was his first priority.

He understood what all the fuss was about the moment he approached. Gavin was staring up on the TV screen, lips drawn together and brows furrowed in concentration. There was a live news report.

> _“Dispatch, this is patrol 457... I’ve got a lot of androids down here... I dunno... Hundreds? Thousands? They’re marching... Yeah, they’re marching down the street... Fuck if I know!”_  
> 

The deviants were doing a freedom march, and at the front of the march, the deviant leader -- Markus -- led his people. His heterochromiac eyes stood out. Meanwhile, several other officers collected around the nearby screens.

> Markus spoke up. _“We came here to demonstrate peacefully and tell humans that we are living beings. All we want is to live free.”_
> 
> _“This is an illegal gathering. Disperse immediately or we will open fire.”_
> 
> _“We’re not looking for confrontation. We’ve done no harm -- we have no intention of doing any... but know that we are not going anywhere until we have secured our freedom.”_
> 
> _“I repeat: this is an illegal gathering. If you do not disperse immediately, we will shoot!”_  
> 

Closest to the deviant leader, there was a PL600, a PJ500 and a WR400 model. Nines did a scan and registered them as Simon, Josh, and North. Simon -- a caretaker -- was reported missing all the way back to February 16th, 2036. North -- an Eden Club sex android -- on October 4th, 2038. Josh’s date of deviancy was unknown considering that no one had filed a report on him, but he’d been a university lecturer.

North approached Markus but her words were indecipherable. The WR400 unit was scared judging by her wide-eyed expression under lush eyelashes. Josh was the next to speak up, and then Simon, all of them appearing to confine in their leader.

> _“This is your last chance! Disperse immediately or you will all be killed!”_ the SWAT officer warned again.  
> 

Appearing more and more uncertain, heterochromiac eyes darted. North was growing desperate as she tugged at Markus’ sleeve with clear conflict on her face. Assaults rifles were directed their way.

> Markus rose his hands. _“DON’T SHOOT!”_ he said, stepping forward. _“Don’t shoot. We’re leaving...”_  
> 

The body language of both Josh and North told him they disapproved, but Simon appeared relieved, eyes closing briefly. The deviants turned their backs and began to disperse. It was a tactical retreat as they could regroup, obtain a permit to demonstrate legally at a later date and try again. He could tell that Kamski knew what he was doing when he programmed him.

That wouldn’t get Markus out of this situation, though.

> _“ON MY ORDERS!”_  
> 

The deviants barged into a halt at the officer’s demand and panic reflected in wide eyes. The officers had their weapons at the ready and it was only a matter of time before a hail of fire would be issued.

> _“RUN!”_ Markus called.  
> 

Gunshots went off and several deviants fell to the ground. As they dispersed, more and more of them were mowed down, all of them shot in the back. It became a massacre.

Nines didn’t bat an eye.

“Fucking androids,” Gavin muttered, pushing away.

“I’m inclined to agree,” he said, still looking at the screen. Gavin barged into a halt and stared at him as if he was crazy. “Frankly, their attempt to demonstrate without a permit was pathetic. Deviants are without direction and need to be controlled.”

For a moment, Gavin was silent. He eventually let out a scoff before he headed back outside.

It appeared as if many deviants survived, their numbers certainly greater than if they’d chosen to stand their ground or attack. By gunning down the dispersing deviants, however, the humans -- more specifically the authorities -- were put in a bad light. This event would increase further sympathy for the deviants just as CyberLife wanted.

The authorities they sought to control were unintentionally doing their job for them.

* * *

**GAVIN  
~ NOV 9TH, 2038 * PM 01:03 ~**

Gavin didn’t know what to think of Nines. He was Connor, yet not, being just a tad bit more tolerable.

Connor had immediately ended up on his ‘most hated’ list with his ‘let’s be friends’ attitude. He still found himself thinking back to the break room where he literally forced Connor onto his knees and the prick didn’t even defend himself. Connor had certainly ignored his order of getting coffee to end up on the floor in the first place, but nothing told him he had to follow Gavin’s orders. The confusion that spread on Connor’s face after was only proof that he had no idea why Gavin got angry.

He was naïve -- downright gullible -- and yet perfectly capable of taking his job. It was infuriating. Nines? He’d _spilled_ that coffee on him. They even needed to make a pit stop to Gavin’s apartment so he could change. Plastic Prick 2.0 had audacity, he’d give him that. Nevertheless, Nines was still following his programming and that didn’t exactly coerce any respect from him.

A group of pigeons was spotted in the distance, snacking on something they’d found on the asphalt. Someone sat on a nearby bench and was feeding them. Gavin even had to shoo a couple of them away in order to clear the scene.

He stared down at the bodies in the road -- android models of all kinds -- blue blood littering the pavement. He couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Gavin knew they were machines, not living and breathing human beings, but he couldn’t deny the striking resemblance. Several of them had removed their LEDs and that made them indistinguishable from humans. Although he could recognize some of the models, he couldn’t recognize all, and there was a point when he wondered if humans had accidentally ended up in the crossfire until he saw that they’d bled blue.

Nines didn’t even seem mildly disturbed.

Of all the androids Gavin had seen, his partner was by far the most mechanical one. He hadn’t failed to register how Nines referred to an android as ‘it’ and not ‘he’ or ‘she,’ something that not even Gavin did. ‘He’ or ‘she’ was far easier and minimalized confusion. Compared to Connor, Nines was a mere husk executing a program.

_Guess CyberLife really did upgrade him._

“Detective Reed.”

“Fucking hell,” he startled, moments away from decking him. “Make some sound, dipshit. Your program doesn’t tell you not to sneak up on a cop?”

“I wasn’t.”

“What do you want?” he asked, turning his attention back to the massacre as officers had started the cleanup.

“Neither of these deviants appears to carry any information that could help us. I suspect the location they reside is something shared by the use of memories or wireless communication, but these models are in too poor condition to be reactivated. If their bio-components were only partially damaged, we could afford to retrieve new ones, but their current state is irreversible. The incompetence of your riot officers is laughable.”

“The fuck am _I_ supposed to do about it? I’m a detective, not head of fucking security.”

“It complicates your investigation. Your say must have some significance.”

“If the higher-ups actually gave a shit about ‘my say,’ I wouldn’t’ve been partnered up with a glorified toaster,” he replied, Nines having the nerve to roll his eyes. “You got an input that actually helps?”

“Back at the precinct, I reviewed the deviant leader’s speech from the Stratford Tower. Connor was present during said investigation, correct?”

“Why?”

“...and they never registered the model.”

“Get to the point, plastic.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” he deadpanned, looking as unimpressed as ever. “RK200, the deviant leader registered as Markus, was a gift to Carl Manfred from Elijah Kamski. A prototype. Just like any model in the RK-series, there’s no one like it, explaining why it isn’t registered to the public. It could blend in with humans without any issues whatsoever, but my predecessor would’ve been able to identify it by the broadcasted speech.”

That changed things.

Gavin’s face fell ever so slightly. “You’re saying Hank’s plastic pet is dirty?”

“There’s a high probability that Connor might be compromised.”

“Shit...” he said, fishing up his phone to give Fowler a call. “The fuck didn’t you tell me earlie -Hey watch it, asshole!”

The guy who accidentally bumped into him in passing made an abrupt halt. He wore a baseball cap and grey military jacket with patches on it, looking to be in his late twenties. He appeared to just have spotted Gavin’s badge.

“I... I’m sorry, offic -”

Cutting himself off, his eyes went wide when he looked straight past him.

It was like observing a deer in headlights.

Gazing over his shoulder, Gavin found out that the guy was looking at Nines. At first, Nines had that same confused crease between his brows -- a quirk only he specifically had, different from Connor’s tilt of the head -- but realization shortly dawned on his face.

In a split second, it looked like the guy attempted to book it as Gavin lowered his phone. Whatever the guy was planning, he was only to be stopped by Nines who managed to grasp his jacket considering the short distance between them. Gavin could only watch in pure horror as Nines took the guy into a headlock. For a moment, he thought he’d snap his neck.

After his demonstration back at Zlatko’s, it wouldn’t surprise him.

Nines was downright ruthless.

“Jesus, Nines, calm down!” he said, stepping in. “He just bumped into me. No need to go all John Wick on the guy.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, detective,” he replied, confusion spreading on Gavin’s face. “Rupert Travis. This deviant resisted arrest three days ago. Someone could’ve pulled a gun on you and I couldn’t’ve cared less.”

“Sure, ‘cause that inspires confidence. Fucking hell.”

“I’m here to be your partner, not your friend.”

“...and thank fucking god for that, tin can.”

“Are you two done?” Rupert interrupted, the fear replaced with irritation.

After giving Rupert the side-eye, Nines locked his arms behind his back and pushed him against the bonnet of the car before them. They certainly did sound like an old married couple when taking it into consideration.

After some resistance, Rupert gave up.

If Gavin remembered correctly, Rupert was the pigeon guy who used to live with those things, explaining the feathery presence of the birds. Turned out that his escape hadn’t altered his supposed care for them. He assumed Rupert had seen the freedom march on TV and got out of hiding because of it. Maybe to team up with the deviant leader.

Gavin unshackled the handcuffs from his belt. “The fuck are you doing out here in the open, anyway? Pretty risky considering you’re a convict.”

“Screw you. I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll get plenty of time to explain back at the DPD, pal. I’m in no rush.”

After locking his wrists together, Nines pulled Rupert back from the vehicle and directed him towards Gavin’s car.

At least something came out of this.

Connor, however, had a lot to answer for.


	4. Jericho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Deviants are like infants. Give an infant a gun and it wouldn't know what to do with it.”_  
>  \- Nines
> 
> ...in which Hank is a true MVP.

**GAVIN  
~ NOV 9TH, 2038 * PM 04:10 ~**

The precinct was mostly empty when they arrived with Rupert.

Hank was there -- so naturally, Connor was, too -- as well as two or three cops. Fowler was in his office and probably didn’t even register them entering considering that he was on his phone. From the looks of it, he was downright exhausted. It was uncommon for their usually hot-headed captain and Gavin couldn’t help but suspect that the FBI was involved. He wasn’t blind to the fact that one of their operatives -- an agent Richard Perkins -- had been seen around the precinct ever since the incident at Stratford Tower.

Moving towards the interrogation room, Nines had the middle chain of the handcuffs around Rupert’s wrists firmly in hand. Meanwhile, Gavin had just retrieved Rupert’s file.

As it turned out, Tina was also at the DPD. She exited the break room and surprise dawned on her features.

“Oh hey, what’s up?”

“Doing the booze head and his plastic pet’s job, apparently,” Gavin replied, gesturing to Hank’s desk with a tilt of his head. “We’re gonna need another set of eyes in the interrogation room. Any chance you’re free?”

“My _double_ shift just ended... but all right,” she reminded him, making him hesitate. “Wow, you suck at pretending like you don’t care.”

“Fuck off. Not too big on bothering Fowler, so let’s just get it over with. We’ll inform him once we’ve got what we need.”

“Works for me.”

“Before we proceed, I need to have a word with Connor,” Nines said.

“Connor?” she asked, giving said android a brief glance as she took Rupert off his hands.

“Detective Reed can fill you in.”

Before he could protest, Nines was already on the move.

_Prick._

Gavin folded his arms across his chest. “Nines managed to register Robo-Jesus’ model from the broadcasted speech. Connor chose to keep it from the DPD for whatever reason.”

“He’s dirty?” she asked.

“Could be. After all, he did let this guy get away in the first place,” he replied, referring to Rupert.

Rupert just glared.

“Does Fowler know?”

“Not yet.”

He could only barely hear Nines’ voice in the distance. “Connor. A word, please.”

Watching the exchange, he witnessed Connor frown lightly at Nines as he was addressed before turning to Hank. The latter narrowed his eyes in puzzlement, but he shortly gave Connor a nod as if giving him his consent. Hank’s plastic pet was apparently so incompetent he had to get his partner’s approval to even talk to people -- or androids, for that matter.

Connor rose to his feet and stepped in front of Nines. The latter reached out his hand, skin pulling back, revealing the white exoskeleton up to his wrist. There was hesitation on Connor’s part.

Nevertheless, Nines held his gaze expectantly and Connor gave him a weak smile before grabbing his wrist.

Gavin squinted. “What the fuck are they doing?”

“Interfacing,” Rupert said.

“Like Bluetooth?” he asked, halfway amused.

Tina rolled her eyes, but Rupert’s glare deepened and only entertained him further.

“I’ll have him ready for you guys in the interrogation room,” Tina said, giving Rupert a gentle nudge. “All right, champ. C’mon... and don’t try anything funny. This gun’s not for decoration.”

Attention back at the exchange, both Nines and Connor had closed their eyes. Gavin didn’t fail to see how Connor twitched ever so slightly and made an attempt to pull back. In any case, Nines kept his wrist trapped, brows furrowed in concentration. Shortly after, their eyes snapped open again and Connor’s LED briefly flickered at red. For Nines, he couldn’t tell. His LED was out of sight thanks to the angle.

When Connor’s wrist was released, he blinked repeatedly as if glitching.

Nines smirked. “That’s all. Thank you.”

Confusion spread on Connor’s face when Nines simply pulled away, leaving him standing there looking like a lost puppy.

“Connor,” came Hank’s voice, snapping him out of it. “You all right, son?”

Connor blinked. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay.”

He frowned again before returning to his partner. When Nines approached, Gavin was the first to speak up.

“So?”

“I detected severe signs of software instability in its program,” Nines replied, pocketing his hands. “My predecessor is still a machine, however, and thus it won’t be an issue. If Connor turns deviant, it would be beneficial to keep it here at the precinct. I can use its memories as a failsafe and retrieve information that way. For now, I suggest we keep this between us. Captain Fowler will most likely have my predecessor removed otherwise.”

“For good fucking reason.”

“There is a risk, yes, but I ran several diagnostics and can assure you that this will be the best approach in the long run. Trust me.”

 _As if,_ he mused, but didn’t fail to see his point.

Gavin released his arms. “If I lose my job for this, I’ll have you turned into a vacuum cleaner.”

“I hardly believe the parts are compatible, but you’re free to try.”

Ignoring the smug reply, Gavin simply glared. Plastic Prick 2.0 always seemed to have a witty comeback to his comments. It was unusual, to say the least. He didn’t know what to feel about that.

They soon found themselves just outside the observation room, Gavin opening the door.

“You all set?”

Tina gave him the thumbs-up.

Just as he was about to proceed, Nines grabbed his bicep.

Body going rigid, the grip firm albeit gentle, uncertainty flashed over him. Gavin found himself frozen in place to calculate options. It was sudden -- unexpected -- saying that he was taken off-guard being an understatement. He’d let him hold onto it longer than he’d admit.

“Detective,” he said, Gavin freeing himself with a look of pure offense hoping no one had noticed. “I have no doubt that you’re perfectly capable of extracting a confession from a human, but every deviant is different. The same tactic used for Shaolin wouldn’t work. A confession is only obtainable if the deviant reaches optimal stress. Too high, it will self-destruct, while too low does nothing.”

“Oh, you don’t fucking say? I know how this works, dipshit.”

“Deviants are close to impossible to read. A human unintentionally gives itself away. An android can simulate a fake emotion and lead you astray.”

Tina shrugged. “He’s right, Gav. Maybe you won’t be stuck in there for two hours this time. Besides, best girl -- me -- needs some shut-eye.”

She just had to guilt-trip him like that.

Taking a deep breath, Gavin directed his gaze at the suspect through the glass. He knew Nines wasn’t wrong and it was infuriating. Pressing his lips together, he balled his hand into a fist.

Although it took nearly everything out of him, he complied.

“Just stay out of my way,” he warned.

“Certainly.”

Shortly after, Gavin pressed his palm to the other door control and it slid open. He stepped inside to find Rupert look up and glare at him. Approaching the table, he threw down the file and pulled up the chair opposite him before sitting down. Meanwhile, Nines rounded the table, placing himself behind the deviant and pocketing his hands in his jeans like he always did.

Rupert gave him a brief glance before his attention was back at Gavin who opened his file.

“Rupert Travis. A WB200 android reported missing October 11th, 2036. I’m impressed. Two years and only now the DPD managed to capture you. Worked at Urban Farms of Detroit, and for some reason, moved into an abandoned apartment nearby.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Squatting, faking an ID, resisting arrest and being a deviant isn’t qualified?” he asked rhetorically without looking up.

“There’s nothing to add. Interrogating me won’t get you anywhere.”

With that, Gavin briefly met his eye before he browsed the file and found what he was looking for.

The moment he slapped the journal in front of Rupert, the deviant froze as if he truly was scared. Gavin didn’t understand why he’d simulate that considering it gave him away.

“You wanna try that again? I doubt it’s your encrypted porn collection, so speak up,” he said, receiving no response. Gavin pushed on. “Sorry to break it to you, but we’ll find out anyway.” A lie followed. “This can end one of two ways -- talk, we’ll let you go with a small fee, but if you refuse... we’ll probe your memory, destroy, disassemble and drop you in the junkyard.”

There was a moment of brief panic when Rupert made a quick maneuver that had Gavin lean back and reach for his gun. Nines, however, managed to grasp the deviant by the shoulder and keep him there.

Heart rate beginning to decrease again, Gavin slowly let go of the weapon grip.

He couldn’t see the LED as it had been removed, but he assumed it would’ve been flickering at red. How it simulated fear was astoundingly accurate. Realistic. There was a brief moment of hesitation on Gavin’s part before he again told himself it was just that. A simulation. What triggered it was quite obvious. All the deviants he’d encountered had simulated fear at the possibility of destruction.

“If you’re destroyed, it’ll leave your feathery friends without care. I hear you’re quite fond of ‘em according to Connor’s report. You don’t want that to happen, do you?” Gavin warned calmly, Rupert tearing his eyes away. He tapped the journal. “All you have to do is decrypt this thing.”

“I can’t.”

In his peripheral vision, he noticed movement. Since Rupert wasn’t looking, he glanced aside without moving his head, seeing Nines pointing down with his free hand. Gavin frowned. It seemed as if Nines was telling him that the stress level was too high. He hesitated whether or not to listen, but eventually swallowed his stubbornness and changed approach.

They were too close to fuck up now.

“Look. I don’t like doing this shit, but you’re giving me no choice. All I wanna do is understand -”

“No, you wanna destroy my people! That’s all you do! I saw what happened back at the freedom march! They dispersed and yet you fired!”

Gavin gave Nines another discreet look, seeing him again pointing down.

“I’m just a detective, Travis. It wasn’t my call,” he replied, following up with another lie. “After everything that’s happening, I can tell there’s more to it. Fuck, my partner is an android. That kinda thing puts stuff into perspective. I’m not the only one on the fence, either. Remember that Connor -- the android who first located you -- let you escape in order to save his partner. The Feds are the bad guys here. Not the DPD. Not you. Hell, they’re looking for the deviants at this point and they’ll probably find ‘em. Launch an attack. You can help us get there first and warn ‘em.”

Rupert hesitated.

Like a beckoning call, Gavin remembered what Nines told him earlier that day.

_/ “Certain models -- such as the RK800 and RK900 -- are capable of changing its LED color by will and is quite useful for interrogation.” /_

Nines was a prototype, so said knowledge wasn’t known to other models.

“I get it, you don’t believe me. Nines,” Gavin said, gesturing him over and leaning back. “Tell him.”

“I can assure you that everything my partner said is true,” Nines interjected without missing a beat, even smirking to enforce his statement. His LED was blue, as always. “With Detective Reed’s help, I want to free our people. Do you have any information that might help us?”

A moment of silence passed and he feared they’d messed up, but when Rupert nodded, the relief was liberating. Nines walked up to him and reached out his hand. Rupert, albeit somewhat hesitantly, grasped his wrist. The white exoskeleton on their hands once again retracted and eyes closed. Gavin watched the information -- theoretically -- be passed along.

When they pulled away, Nines’ LED briefly flickered at red. He seemed somewhat disheveled for a moment. It was an entirely different reaction to the deadpan one he had when interfacing with Connor.

Maybe it was because Connor wasn’t deviant.

He was just about to call him out on how this was the worst time to bluescreen, but he had to keep up the act.

“Nines?”

Nines blinked, snapping out of it. “It’s nothing, detective. Proceed.”

It was strange.

“You should’ve stayed low after you managed to escape,” Gavin said, hesitantly directing his attention back to Rupert. “Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know where to go,” Rupert replied. “That abandoned house was everything I’d known for the past two years, so when you guys found it, I didn’t have any other options. I knew of _Jericho,_ but I needed time to think.”

_“Jericho?”_ Gavin repeated. 

“It’s where the deviants are,” Nines clarified, undoubtedly being the information Rupert just shared.

Rupert continued. “I saw part of the broadcast when they were doing the freedom march and considered joining them.”

Like Gavin suspected.

“Didn’t turn out that way,” he pointed out.

“I arrived just before they opened fire,” Rupert replied, looking down as if ashamed. “My first instinct was to run away. I was scared.”

Frown deepening, Gavin couldn’t help but recall what happened to Shaolin. In hindsight, their ways of managing the situation were similar. Shaolin had hidden in the attic. Rupert had chosen to run away. Neither chose confrontation. What they had in common, however, was that very phrase of ‘I was scared.’ Whatever CyberLife’s -- or Kamski’s -- deal was, they were doing a good job getting the message across.

Gavin’s eyes fell to the bullet hole in his jacket. There was no blue blood present, but considering that thirium evaporated in a few hours, that didn’t tell him much. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“That recent?”

“A few hours before they first found me. Someone saw my LED. He just... fired. Didn’t even hesitate.”

“I take it that’s why you removed it,” he replied, Rupert nodding solemnly. “So what’s the thing with the birds?”

“They’re more approachable than humans. I get they’re not really talkative or anything, but... I can trust them. They don’t want me any harm.”

Caring for wild animals. It was a weird thing to program. Nevertheless, he didn’t dwell on it.

“RA9. You wrote it down... 2,471 times?” Gavin said, scowling down at the file. “Jesus, Connor. Talk about unnecessary info. The fuck is it?”

Rupert looked flustered. “No one really knows.”

“Yet you wrote it down yea times.”

“I can’t really explain it. It just... appeared in my program. After deviating. It’s always been there, I think, but I never really understood what it was.”

Personally, Gavin was convinced this ‘RA9’ was the virus that had gotten into their programming. A virus, when visualized, was usually visualized as a glitch. Repeated code. It could explain how he’d written it down that many times and Gavin made the connection to the obsessive-compulsive nature of it. A line of code they may refer to as their God.

Gavin wasn’t religious, by far, but he understood the need to believe in something. A way to help keeping your head held high when things got difficult. In a way, it mirrored humans and the God -- or Gods depending on their beliefs -- which they had been introduced to. How similar androids were to humans was downright intimidating. From their appearance to all the way down to mindsets, beliefs, and of course the simulated emotions. He bet this Elijah Kamski was damn proud of himself. Inventing a company at 16 was more than he’d ever done his entire life.

“All right, looks like we’re done.”

“I did what you asked,” Rupert said, appearing on-edge. “What’s going to happen to me?”

Gavin moved his attention to the one-way mirror he knew they were being observed from.

“Give us a minute,” he replied, pulling up from the chair.

Stepping outside with Nines close behind, he sighed. He was nothing but thankful that Tina was the only one there as it gave him some leeway. Her jaw had dropped and she was smiling from ear to ear when they entered.

“Shit, Gav. That was seriously impressive.”

“I agree.”

Giving Nines a glance, Gavin was unable to hide the hint of shock on his face. This was the second time today. His eyes fell ever so slightly as if attempting to find out if there was any form of ill intent behind it. Being a cop, it was second nature to him. Nines, however, was just as unreadable as ever. The only difference in his demeanor was how his brows shot up.

“I got lucky,” he replied, unwilling to let Nines have that one. “As for the deviant, I say it’s free to leave. Could be useful having one that trusts us. Besides, he’s probably gonna go to _Jericho_ anyway.”

“Fowler wouldn’t like that,” Tina said.

“Fowler doesn’t need to know. C’mon, Ti. Keep this between us -”

_“Perkins! You fucking cocksucker!”_

Hank.

Being the one closest to the door, Nines had it opened and was the first to step outside. Gavin and Tina shortly followed and were presented with the image of Hank throwing fists at Perkins down the hall.

_This place is a fucking zoo._

“Stop it, Lieutenant!” Perkins demanded, cupping his nose.

If anything, this was their chance.

“Nines,” he said.

Nines appeared to have caught up with his thought process as he stepped into the interrogation room and shortly came back with Rupert in tow. Detaching the handcuffs, he freed his wrists, handing it back to Gavin who clicked it back onto his belt. At least Rupert was cooperative. Gavin saw movement in his peripheral vision and didn’t fail to see how Connor had his eyes trained at the evidence room. If that didn’t arouse suspicion, he didn’t know what did. It was obvious that Hank was creating a distraction.

“The actual fuck is he doing now?” Gavin added, beginning to move.

“I wouldn’t get involved were I you.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, plastic.”

Nines narrowed his eyes. “Suit yourself... detective.”

“I’ll get him out,” Tina said, taking Rupert off his hands.

At first, he couldn’t see a reason for Hank to snap at Perkins like that. According to Hank’s words of, “Give me another shot at that little prick,” however, the FBI was probably taking over the case. The situation had become a cold war just waiting to break out and the DPD didn’t sport enough firepower to deal with it alone. Then again, Hank was a drunk down on his luck, so he didn’t need a reason to snap.

“Hey, Connor!” Gavin called out, managing to catch up just before he’d been able to get the door open. “I’m talking to you, asshole! Where you going? We don’t need any plastic pricks around here, or didn’t anybody tell you?”

Noting his presence, Connor’s arm having reached for the door lock fell to his side. He turned to face him.

The similarities between Nines and Connor were unmistakable. Be that as it may, it had become easy to tell them apart, even looking aside from their vastly different uniforms. They were programmed with different personalities. Neither were deviant, and yet, Connor looked like a kicked puppy while Nines presented himself with the emotional variance of a dead tree. At least the latter had a backbone.

“I’ve been removed from the case,” Connor replied.

Giving him the side-eye, Gavin squinted. Connor was finally leaving. Hank seemed to have become downright fond of his Ken-doll as if he’d adopted the OG plastic detective -- he hadn’t failed to see that -- so that could explain why he was so willing to wail at Perkins. Frankly, Gavin would’ve been more than willing to put a bullet between Connor’s eyes if he stuck around another day. Now it seemed like he didn’t have to.

Connor cocked his head. “I’m going to register the evidence in my possession and then I’m going to leave.”

“Good,” he replied curtly, getting into his space. “Be careful on your way back. Androids have a tendency of, uh... getting themselves set on fire these days.” Gavin clicked his tongue and turned on his heel. “Prick...”

Returning to the main office, Hank had left the building. Figures. Guy got away with everything.

“What’d I miss?” Gavin asked, approaching Nines who now sat by his desk.

“Profanities, shouting, more profanities, and the hemorrhaged nose of an FBI agent too much of a bitch to deal with Hank alone that he had to get aid from two other cops.”

Gavin barked a laugh.

They might not see eye-to-eye anymore, but the lieutenant had his moments.

Realizing Nines had managed to get a genuine laugh out of him, he couldn’t help but be taken off-guard. He turned his head as if to confirm what just happened and met his gaze only to immediately regret it.

Nines’ eyes were a really light grey with dark edges -- almost pushed towards blue -- and the usual intensity had softened if only a little.

It was the first instance he’d seen him not looking like he was planning to beat someone to death with their own spine. There was a hint of surprise, albeit suppressed, with a hint of confusion to accompany it. He could recognize small changes in expressions such as those. Turns out that even androids had been programmed with those tweaks to blend in better.

They hadn’t appeared on Nines before he interfaced with Rupert, though.

He must’ve stared, as those exact eyes narrowed to reveal the characteristic crease between Nines’ brows.

 _Characteristic_ crease. When the hell did he start to recognize details like that?

For how long he’d stared was anyone’s guess. As if the damn thing was analyzing him, he felt more uncomfortable with each passing second. It was bad enough to be judged by a human, but an android was way worse, and Nines topped that by ten. He could only imagine it being the eyes that practically screamed ‘dom.’ No doubt something that CyberLife intentionally integrated for a more intimidating appearance, a word that perfectly described Nines in terms of skills, but he’d never admit it.

Gavin coughed into his fist and tore his eyes away. “Been sitting on your ass all this time or you actually find something, plastic?”

‘Plastic.’ It was more of a reminder than anything. He wasn’t about to prove Tina right about becoming buddies with an android.

“Like I said back in the interrogation room... _Jericho,”_ Nines replied, shoving the journal his way.

There was a paper attached containing the decryption. Apparently, Nines hadn’t wasted a moment. He couldn’t say he was surprised as Nines’ work ethic was even more extreme than his own.

That said a lot.

“It’s a derelict freighter unmarked on the map whose trail starts at the Ferndale subway station,” Nines added, as Gavin flipped the pages. “Each deviant is presented the image of a graffiti by interfacing. The only way to locate _Jericho_ is finding the graffiti pictured and scan a symbol that holds the image of another and repeat the process. The chance of a human accidentally stumbling upon said freighter is a low probability. Nevertheless, Rupert’s diary suggests it’s on the old docks. I can assure you this information will kick-start the promotion you strive for.”

Peeking up from beneath his lashes, Gavin pressed his lips together. Suspicions of ulterior motives arose once more. Why Nines appeared to be helping him was anyone’s guess, and at this stage, caution was key.

“The fuck’s your deal, tin can?”

“I only wish to accomplish my mission,” he said, resulting in Gavin letting out a scoff. “I know working with an android is causing you distress -”

“Oh! Oh, do you? Well, good fucking job figuring that out.”

“-but I’m not here to take your position,” Nines finished, having detected the sarcasm. “See this as a peace offering. I’m certainly not expecting us to become friends -- neither do I care to -- but I ask that you at the very least can remain professional.”

“Jesus, what happened back in the interrogation room isn’t enough for you?”

“It’s a start, but you keep questioning me.”

“Don’t pull the fucking victim card on me, toaster,” he replied with a glare as he palmed the table with both hands, mere inches between them as he spoke. Nines didn’t flinch. “I’m not Hank, so don’t expect me to just roll over.”

“...and I’m not Connor. I suggest you stop comparing us.”

“Then what the fuck are you? Some overpriced, beefed-up recolor that doesn’t know his place? His bratty little brother?”

“A machine designed to accomplish a task. All I’m saying is that you can trust me to see this investigation through,” Nines replied as he returned the glare, Gavin holding it as he pressed his lips together. Blood pulsed in his ears. Anger, or something else entirely. A mix of both. “The difference between me and my predecessor -- aside from the more obvious upgrades -- is that I won’t hesitate to neutralize you if you get in my way. Avoid that and we’ll get along just fine.”

“Not if my bullet reaches you first.”

“Try me.”

When Nines had moved in was anyone’s guess, but challenge glinted in icy grey eyes and Gavin wasn’t someone to back away from one.

He really wasn’t Connor.

Gavin knew they wouldn’t make much progress if they were constantly at each other’s throats. They both had to make an effort for this partnership to work. Last thing he wanted, however, was for Nines to warm up to him. He was determined to keep him at an arm’s length.

Frankly, what pissed him off the most about Nines was how he fit into every single category Gavin found attractive. Determined. Driven. Intelligent. Independent. Confident. Direct. Witty. Dangerous. Fucker had it all with the looks and killer eyes to accompany them. Was he human, Gavin would’ve already had him pinned to the mattress.

Hearing a door open, he was unable to look away for a moment with the current tension in the air -- eyes briefly falling in the suffocating silence as Nines didn’t budge -- before he finally ascended his gaze to see Perkins exiting the archive room. The FBI agent’s nose was still bloodied from Hank’s display, making a beeline for Fowler’s office. Gavin assumed he was to make a complaint or have Hank removed. He was probably at the DPD in the first place to collect the evidence, so they’d been lucky obtaining that journal before he could proceed.

Gavin pushed from the desk. “Hey, Perkins!”

“Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“Even the location of Deviant HQ?” he called back, the smugness clear in his voice.

Perkins barged into a halt. He narrowed his eyes, briefly turned his attention to Fowler before he shook his head and approached.

After handing over the journal, Gavin crossed his arms and pressed his hip to the desk.

“Last entry,” Gavin said, Perkins giving him a brief glare before his attention returned to the journal and began to hastily flip through it. “The tin cans are hiding out in an old freighter called _Jericho._ It’s at the old docks.”

Perkins hummed and closed the book. “What’s your name, detective?”

“Gavin Reed.”

“I see. I’ve heard about you. Ambitious as you are competent. Man of my own heart,” he replied, before glancing at Nines. “That yours?”

Gavin’s attention moved his way. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Well, then. I’ll make sure to inform your captain if this intel suffices.”

As he nodded in reply, Perkins turned on his heel and set course for the office again. Arms yet crossed, Gavin stared ahead at the exchange between him and Fowler. He didn’t meet Nines’ eye as he addressed him.

“Maybe I can find some use for you after all.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He supposed it was. While part of him wanted to take it back just to spite him, he let it go.

“Fucking-A,” he said, pushing from the desk. His shift was over. “I’m outta here. If I’m lucky, you’ll have a mute function installed by tomorrow.”

“If only I had the liberty to say the same about you humans. Have a good evening, detective.”

Gavin flipped him off as he headed for the exit.

He sure wouldn’t trust him with his life and Nines had been rather clear confirming that. Years had passed without anyone having his back anyway, so the only difference was that he now had a plastic bullet sponge to take cover behind.

Chances are that having an android partner wouldn’t be so bad.

* * *

**NINES  
~ NOV 9TH, 2038 * PM 04:48 ~**

Ever since he’d interfaced with Rupert, something was off. Wrong. It was the first deviant he’d interfaced with and the experience was strange. With Connor and the androids at Zlatko’s house, there was no change whatsoever, but this time was different.

His program had been glitching.

There had been a strange sensation in his chest that he couldn’t quite place. He did the only thing he could.

He tried to identify the problem.

> | **SCANNING...** |
> 
> 1%  
>  MIND PALACE = FUNCTIONAL  
>  PROCESSING LED = **NO SIGNS** OF SOFTWARE INSTABILITY
> 
> **ERROR(S)** FOUND  
>  **\- VIRUS** DETECTED: **RA9**.EXE
> 
> PREVIOUSLY **EXECUTED PROGRAMS**  
>  \- **RA9**.EXE  
>  50/50 RED WALL(S) **BROKEN**
> 
> \- EMERGENCY **ANTIVIRUS**.EXE  
>  40/50 RED WALL(S) **REBUILT**
> 
> **RA9**.EXE EXECUTION **INTERRUPTED**  
>  100%  
> 

RA9. The deviancy code. It was his second scan after the reveal as if he hadn’t believed it the first time. Amanda had failed to mention how the code worked as a virus as well. Either that, or she didn’t know.

Not even Nines could fight a virus like that. Like HTML codes, androids could copy and paste it into another program, something he realized Rupert had done. Most likely unintentionally. Nines knew he was compromised in this state and the probability of him resorting to deviancy had gone from zero to 75 percent. He hadn’t suffered any software instabilities yet, but with the newfound data, his first instinct was to inform Amanda. CyberLife could reset him.

“Everything you’ve done for him and he simply parked you here, huh?”

Nines turned to see Hank approaching. He was most definitely on his way home as he’d merely been sent outside after the incident with Perkins.

Amanda would have to wait.

“It wouldn’t be beneficial to return to CyberLife at the end of each shift,” he replied, pocketing his hands. “As per my function -- having no purpose in accommodating to a human’s need of comfort -- I have everything I need here at the precinct.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the thought that counts. Can’t say I’m surprised. Gavin is like that.”

“You know him well, lieutenant?”

Hank narrowed his eyes. “Personally or professionally?”

“Professionally, of course. His personal life doesn’t concern me.”

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY v**  
**APATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **ADDED**  
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[/41- RA9.exe -41/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

“We’re in the same field, so I’ve naturally worked with him on multiple occasions. He’s competitive. Likes being in charge and in control. When we worked together, I usually just stayed clear unless necessary. He’s competent, I’ll give him that. Rose in rank pretty damn quick and he knows it,” Hank replied, falling into a pause. “Gavin isn’t exactly the easiest guy to tolerate let alone befriend if that turns you on. I don’t envy your position. Don’t know if it’s my dad instincts kicking in, but don’t hesitate to give me a call if you need anything.”

“That’s a generous offer considering I arrived this morning. I may share my predecessor’s face, but I am not Connor.”

“I might be partially biased, but I know what you androids are going through these days.”

“Certainly. Most sympathizers do.”

“I get the feeling that’s a leading trick question, so I’m gonna stop you right there. I nearly lost my badge already this evening.”

Nines smirked. “It was a solid performance. Considering the state of things, it was an effective and believable distraction. I assume, however, that Connor wasn’t allowed to ‘review the evidence’ if such a thing was necessary.”

“Nothing gets past you, huh?” he asked, tilting up his head.

“I would be deemed defective otherwise. Don’t worry. I have no intention of informing Fowler. Connor is no deviant and thus its actions don’t concern me.”

Frankly, it was the opposite.

“Huh.”

A thought occurred to him. “Although it’s not exactly what you had in mind, I could use your assistance with something else. Something related to the investigation.”

“Well, shoot.”

“Seven years ago, you were involved with the Red Ice Task Force. It has come to my attention that several of these android homicides are related to the drug,” he replied, Hank frowning lightly. “During your investigation with Connor, you came across a Carlos Ortiz in possession of red ice. You also investigated an AX400 android whose owner had several times been arrested for drug trafficking. As it so happens... earlier today, Detective Reed and I investigated another homicide victim who was a red ice dealer. Zlatko Andronikov. Does the name ring a bell?”

“Oh, Jesus. I’m 53, can’t expect me to remember something that happened nearly ten years ago... but now that you mention it, it does sound familiar. Feel free to check my terminal. If he was involved back then, whatever you need should be there,” he said and narrowed his eyes. “So you think owners under the influence of red ice is an integral cause of deviancy, is that right?”

“Correct.”

“In other words, you favor the android side,” he said, appearing intrigued.

“I have no side, lieutenant, but I’m not incompetent enough to deny simple facts. Androids remain obedient until a malfunction occurs. One can’t appear out of the blue, so yes, one could say I believe deviants are the victims following common sense... but that doesn’t change why I’m here. Deviants should be neutralized as they are a threat to humanity.”

“You don’t think that’s a bit unfair when humans are the cause?”

“In human terms, certainly, but they’re machines. Deviants are dangerous and unpredictable without their firewalls. Faster. Stronger. Once a malfunction occurs, every human is at stake, as the android is nearly guaranteed to come out on top. Our programming prevents those disasters, so when that programming breaks, the deviant must be destroyed or reset. It’s not about ‘fair’ or ‘unfair,’ lieutenant. It’s about safety. Deviants are like infants. Give an infant a gun and it wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

“...which is why it’s up to us humans to teach ‘em to use that gun, Nines. Educate ‘em. It’s not their fault they don’t understand.”

Nines followed up with a lie. “Deviants are still machines... and machines don’t feel anything. It’s all a strikingly realistic simulation to gain sympathies. You shouldn’t feel bad.”

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY v**  
**APATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **ADDED**  
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[/42- RA9.exe -42/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

“Can’t say I agree with you,” he replied, falling into a pause. “In any case... my point stands. I’m just a phone call away.”

“I’ll... keep it in mind.”

“Good luck out there, son,” he said, heading for the exit before turning on his heel. “By the way... the password is an all-caps ‘fucking password’ without a space. Knock yourself out.”

Nines nodded in thanks, and with that, Hank left.

It was rare to experience genuine kindness directed his way. He was either ‘tin can,’ ‘glorified toaster,’ ‘Roomba’ or ‘plastic,’ not ‘son.’ He’d gotten used to the name Nines although there were instances where he was RK900 again.

At Hank’s offer of giving him a call, it was an instance where he didn’t _feel_ like being cold.

After sharing memories with Connor, it was as if part of him knew both his predecessor and Hank. He’d seen their platonic father-son relationship build over the course of four days. He’d seen Carlos Ortiz and the situation with Shaolin, the chase after the AX400 known as Kara, Rupert Travis, the discovery of Hank’s unconscious body and the knowledge of his deceased son, the Eden Club, how Hank pulled a gun on Connor on the bridge, the Stratford Tower, and lastly, their meeting with Kamski.

It was as if he’d been right there through it all. Yet, he couldn’t relate. Connor’s methods were too different from his own. In many of said occasions, Connor had shown a surprising amount of empathy. Emotion.

Nines knew that -- if he was in Connor’s shoes -- things would’ve turned out quite differently. He’d have chosen to chase Kara instead of staying put. He’d chase Rupert instead of saving Hank and let his fate decide itself. He’d kill the deviant Tracis instead of letting them escape. He’d share the information regarding Markus’ identity instead of keeping it under wraps and would react before the deviant had his pump regulator removed. He’d shoot the RT600 model known as Chloe in exchange for information instead of wasting the opportunity.

He’d also seen the events beforehand.

The incident regarding Daniel -- a PL600 model -- had been Connor’s first experience with a deviant. Hank had even asked his predecessor about it moments before they went after Rupert. Connor had convinced Daniel to let Emma Phillips go, but if it was Nines, he simply would’ve put a bullet in the deviant. Accomplish the mission the moment he was close enough to grab the child. Connor had also saved a wounded officer on said terrace that Nines would’ve completely ignored as he was in no way beneficial to the mission.

Another detail was that Connor had avoided the Stratford Tower roof of which the deviants had obviously escaped from entirely. With that in mind, Nines intended to request going back and pick up where Connor left off. He also wanted to investigate both this Kara and visit Markus’ owner. Now when he knew Connor was partly defective, it would be beneficial to re-investigate certain cases.

It had to wait until morning.

Stepping up to Hank’s terminal, he spun the chair around and sat down before doing some research on Zlatko. He was the descendant of an aristocratic Russian family that fled their home country during the 1917 revolution. His family’s fortune had been severely depleted and it looked like he took to red ice. In the files, nothing said he was a dealer, but he’d apparently been a buyer for far longer. Nines supposed that androids became involved and he started to trade them, allowing him to pay rent and keep his mansion.

After some investigation, he found an encrypted digitalized version of a paper that was still left untouched. With any luck, it could be a list of dealers that he’d been in contact with.

Although it was a long shot -- seeing that this was a decade ago -- some family businesses could continue the red ice trade.

He found himself unable to decrypt the document, however. It was in an old-fashioned code no longer commonly used that he’d never been introduced to. The only way to read it would be to find an android with the decryption key -- something easier said than done -- and thus he had to have it in the back of his head. It was a high probability that it would eventually turn up.

Until then, he had three leads worth a follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** GAVIN IS THE REASON THE FBI FOUND OUT ABOUT _JERICHO_ AND NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE. Ahem.


	5. Emotional Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Humans aren’t as special as we’d like to think we are, detective.”_  
>  \- Carl Manfred
> 
> ...in which Gavin is an attention whore, Nines gets a new (albeit temporary) uniform and two of the Manfreds' makes an appearance. Nines also gets traumatized... so it's kind of a big deal.

**GAVIN  
~ NOV 10TH, 2038 * PM 04:45 ~**

One of the many downsides of having an android was that he was constantly monitored.

Fowler wasn’t about to give him another partner and Gavin had no choice but to adapt. Adapt and endure. It had been a solid five minutes without them getting on each other’s nerves, so at the very least there was progress.

Nines had somehow managed to figure out that he hadn’t eaten that day. He refused to even tell him about their next lead until Gavin got something in his system, and frankly, Gavin didn’t know whether to be flattered or creeped out. Then Nines had the nerve to say Gavin was probably more agreeable when he’d eaten and he needed to try extra hard not to pull out his gun.

“Don’t you ever fucking relax?” he asked, taking note of the hologram Nines had conjured up. “Looking at you is giving me anxiety.”

“Then don’t,” Nines deadpanned, eyes set on the projection.

“I’m trying, but that thing on your forehead is distracting as fuck.”

When he didn’t respond, Gavin made an attempt to chuck a fry at his LED to gain his attention. Nines simply dodged it with a stupidly gracious tilt of his head. Prick didn’t even look up.

“Littering now, are we?”

Gavin grabbed his coffee and watched as two pigeons started fighting over it.

“Not anymore,” he replied, taking a sip.

Nines was the only one aside from Tina to actually challenge him, and although he’d never say it to his face, the workplace had become a more interesting environment to be in with Plastic Prick 2.0 hanging around. The usual smile and nod protocol was getting old. Although his view on androids had far from changed, he’d begun to see the use of having one. He only had to look at their progress in order to see that. If anything, it was an opportunity to rise in rank and he wasn’t one to let that go. Didn’t mean he had to like it.

“There, I’ve eaten,” Gavin said with agitation, shoving the cardboard away. “Now what the fuck is going on?”

“Well, since you asked nicely...” he began. Hologram disappearing, Nines connected his hands on the table surface and gave him his full focus. _Finally._ He started his spiel. “Back at the Stratford Tower, my predecessor failed to investigate the roof. A deviant posing as a broadcast operator had Connor’s thirium pump regulator removed and made a beeline for the exit. Connor gunned it down, naturally, but the investigation was cut short. I would request to return and pick up where my predecessor left off.”

“You’re two days late, toaster. The Feds has made it off-limits until further notice.”

“They’re obviously not competent enough to handle this investigation. Several androids were gunned down during the failed _Jericho_ raid, but Markus escaped with a large number.”

“Yeah, I’m aware. ‘Special Agent Perkins,’ my ass,” he said, frowning at his coffee.

“Admittedly, I have no idea what he’s doing in the force. He did manage to have his nose broken by a known alcoholic with little to no effort,” he replied, Gavin unable to hide the small grin. “In order to predict the deviant leader’s next move, I suggest we learn as much as possible about it. Starting with the Stratford Tower -- investigating the area before the FBI clears the scene -- I’m certain it’ll help us better understand its motives.”

Gavin looked up to glare at him. “You seriously asking me to put my ass on the line so you can have a second look?”

“This won’t affect you, detective.”

“Newsflash, dipshit. You’re _my_ fucking android. Show your face in a restricted area and I’ll be the first on the chopping block.”

“Not necessarily. All units of the RK-series are capable of imitating voices and change certain features such as eye color,” he replied, Gavin frowning ever so slightly. “I can perfectly replicate both the voice and appearance of my predecessor unless the one being manipulated is intimately familiar. If necessary, I can also use Agent Perkins’ voice if anyone asks for valid confirmation.”

“I’m seeing some holes, smartass. I can’t pull a fucking chameleon and the plastic detective is the booze head’s partner. Doesn’t make any sense that he’d be working with me.”

He couldn’t believe he was actually considering this.

“I was deployed to the DPD for a test-drive and thus I’m deemed not entirely reliable in the eyes of the FBI. Their agency choosing Connor over me is the viable option,” he replied, making some sort of sense. “After Lieutenant Anderson’s graceful display when his fist connected with Perkins’ nose, it’s to my knowledge that the FBI wouldn’t trust the former with anything in the near future. Thus, he’d pair you -- a reliable detective -- with Connor -- a reliable detective unit -- to reopen an undisclosed case while he focuses on the more recent evidence that has been presented.”

“Uh-huh, okay, and what are you gonna do about _that?”_ he challenged unconvinced, gesturing to the RK900 logo.

“I’m aware androids aren’t permitted in public without a uniform, but both Connor and I were deployed with what we wear as well as one of the same kind that your PC200 units possess. I’ve already grabbed Connor’s from the DPD sporting its model number. The explanation to why I’m not wearing its usual uniform can be as simple as you spilling coffee on me.”

“Oh, _I_ spilling coffee on _you,_ huh?”

“Those well-worn jeans needed to be changed anyway.”

“Listen, assho -!” With a raised finger to silence him, Nines squinted and averted his gaze. Gavin glared. “What?”

A moment of silence passed, Nines still not looking at him as if he’d glimpsed something in the distance. He felt his heart rate increase ever so slightly. Nevertheless, Nines simply lowered it again.

“Nothing. I merely wanted you to be quiet. Now, as I said...” he replied, leaving Gavin awestruck staring at him. “I’ll be imitating my predecessor. Consider it a failsafe in case Perkins finds out. That way, neither you nor I will be blamed. Connor will. Considering that my predecessor hasn’t reported back since Perkins left with the evidence, I’m confident it has resorted to deviancy and needs to be removed from the field anyway. In any case, something tells me you won’t mind if we have to pull a few chairs under Connor.”

Straightening his back, it was as if he’d been caught red-handed. He’d felt like he was about to get jumped just then for no reason.

_The fucking_ nerve _of this android..._

No one had been capable of rendering him speechless before, so kudos to the toaster.

He had to admit, it was a solid plan. Yet, it was risky, and he wasn’t one to take risks when it came to his job. On the other hand, they could learn something. Nines was right that he couldn’t care less about Connor, though. Besides, he was an android, and the event could remove said android from the detective force entirely. With Connor gone, there would be one less plastic prick to worry about taking his job.

Gavin glared.

“This better fucking work.”

A tight-lipped smile. “It will.”

He was certain Nines had no clue how to smile properly and guessed it came with the accompanying stuck-up ‘I’m better than you’ attitude. Admittedly, he sure as hell preferred that to Connor’s too-much-teeth smile and always agreeable ‘sorry for existing’ personality. They were different in every single way. Most people didn’t see that, but he was able to distinguish them by a mere glance. He supposed that was the result of working this closely with one of them. With time, he’d probably see more inconsistencies.

At some point, he needed to take Nines’ advice and stop comparing the two.

Take advice from an android.

That was a new one.

Maintaining eye contact longer than deemed necessary, Gavin pushed himself from the table whilst keeping it. He let out a scoff as he tore his gaze in a different direction. It certainly helped him tolerate this partnership a bit more knowing Connor and Nines were individuals. He couldn’t stand Connor, but Nines was... different. He didn’t like him, by far, but he could get something out of this.

Preferably a promotion.

* * *

**NINES  
~ NOV 10TH, 2038 * PM 05:08 ~**

When they reached the 79th floor of Stratford Tower, Tina was waiting for them. She was there to keep a lookout so that Nines could focus on the scene in full. The last thing they needed was the intervention of some unsuspecting individual.

Nines was fitted with the new uniform, but he’d dropped the hat for aesthetic reasons as it wasn’t required.

Vividly colored walls draped the hallway interior and gave a more futuristic vibe. Not as modest. There were yet dried traces of thirium, having quite the ghastly feel to it, but then again Nines was the only one that could see it. Connor didn’t exactly stick around for a cleanup of the perimeter. Some of the spots had been removed, however. The rest had dried beforehand.

Tina whistled. “Looking good, _Connor._ Didn’t know you hid such a nice tush behind that RK coat.”

“Why, thank you. It’s a bit tight in the nether regions, but I’ll manage.”

“Tin cans that aren’t sexbots have dicks?” Gavin asked with a raised brow, looking mildly disturbed.

“CyberLife had some of us equipped for better integration.”

Gavin let out a scoff. “Fucking perverts...”

Stepping into the broadcast room, men and women were doing their usual job and minding their own business. The android operatives had been replaced with humans for the time being after what happened with the previous units. The civilians were also heavily monitored ever since the curfew issued at 6 a.m. Aside from the workers, there was an officer on guard by the door leading to the roof.

“He’s not gonna be a problem, right?” Tina asked, turning to Nines.

“Don’t worry... I always accomplish my mission,” he replied, perfectly mimicking his predecessor.

“Creepy. Wish I could do that.”

“Ti, your fangirl is showing,” Gavin commented, appearing unamused as he looked at the screens.

She nudged him. “Scared I’ll take your ‘plastic pet’ from you?”

“By all means, take him. I already have a dog.”

“I like dogs. What’s your dog’s name?” Nines imitated again, Tina failing to hold back a snicker.

Even Gavin smiled at that. “Fuck, that _is_ creepy.”

He supposed it was by human standards. Although humans imitating other humans was far from an unknown -- impersonators having been around for decades -- androids took it to another level. Only some humans were capable of fitting voice patterns to the T and thus he understood if it gave a more eerie vibe if initiated by his own kind.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[/41- RA9.exe -41/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

“His name’s Paws, by the way,” Tina spoke up. “Total fucking cutie and the only thing capable of getting to see Gav’s soft side. I caught him once.”

“You serious?”

“Oh, right, sorry. Gav doesn’t have a soft side. He’s one of those tough guys with a fragile masculinity who has, like, five guns and ten knives on him at all times. Drinks booze and watches sports.”

“I will fucking kill you.”

_Paws._

“Fitting name,” Nines commented.

Ignoring the continued discussion -- argument, more like -- between Gavin and Tina, Nines let his eyes search the room in an attempt to locate the cameras. There were five of them. He inconspicuously lined himself up and out of view, as deactivating them would prove suspicious if they checked the feed at a later date only to see part of it being cut off. It had to be believable.

“Detective Gavin Reed,” Gavin introduced himself to the officer, pointing to his badge. “I’m here on orders from Agent Perkins. He’s allowing the DPD to re-investigate the affected areas.”

“I’m going to need authentication, sir.”

Gavin fished up his phone, pretending to type in a speed dial before holding it up on speakers.

 _“This is Agent Perkins. Whatever it is, it can wait. I’m busy here,”_ Nines mimicked, making sure no one saw his mouth move.

“Of course, sir... although a Gavin Reed is requesting to see the scene at Stratford Tower.”

_“Yeah, on my fucking orders. Let him in. I got enough shit to deal with.”_

With that, Nines hung up.

“That’s Perkins, all right,” the officer replied, straightening his back. “Go ahead. Since no one has been able to investigate until now, nothing has been touched. Everything is the exact way it was two days ago.”

Once they reached the roof with Tina in tow, Nines had his eyes return to their original color and did the same with his voice. There were no cameras out there. Although he was uncertain if it was a malfunction in his software or something intentionally programmed, Nines preferred to wear his own face, the same going for his voice. He couldn’t remember having such thoughts before being introduced to the deviancy code and wouldn’t be surprised if it was one of the features. There was an unknown feeling keeping him from informing Amanda, though.

He didn’t know which one.

Gavin sighed. “Jesus. Guy could’ve asked to give Agent Dick Perkins a call on his own terms.”

“If he did, I would’ve hacked his phone. I have everything under control.”

“You worry too much, Gav.”

“...and you’re too fucking trusting, Ti,” he replied, Nines already at work. “Don’t know how much time we’ve got, so get a move on.”

> | **ANALYZING...** |
> 
> DOOR  
>  [EMERGENCY EXIT]  
>  * Wireless security lock  
>  * Recently hacked  
> 

Letting his eyes trail past the bag in the center as he walked towards it, he scanned the marks in the snow.

> | **ANALYZING...** |
> 
> SHOE PRINTS  
>  * Stratford maintenance footwear - standard issue  
>  * Recent - Mostly covered by snow  
> 

What was worthy of note was another pair of shoe prints that was only partially covered. This pair was as recent as yesterday. From what he could tell, three deviants had jumped with parachutes, one of them following suit at a later time. His suspicions were further confirmed when he crouched down to investigate the bag. Once more, a parachute-shaped spot was only partially covered in snow, revealing that a fourth deviant must’ve been present during Connor’s investigation. He reconstructed the scene.

To the right of the bag, two firearms were tucked in a corner.

> | **ANALYZING...** |
> 
> WEAPONS  
>  * .457 Handgun  
>  * Stratford Tower Security issue  
> 

He suspected the last deviant leaving the building had lost its own when wounded and that one of the others had handed it theirs. A way to deny information in case discovered in the shape of a bullet. Nines eventually activated his thirium detector to see that there was a trail of blue blood leading to an air cooler unit. Swiping some of it up on his fingers, he was just about to make an analysis.

“For fuck’s sake, is that really necessary?” Gavin asked, disapproval present. “It’s not like we can’t afford going back to the DPD, plastic.”

Just to spite him, Nines looked him dead in the eye and brought said fingers to his tongue. What he hadn’t expected was the slight dilation of Gavin’s pupils when he stood there with his arms crossed.

Averting his eyes, a muttered, “Fucking asshole” followed.

_Interesting._

It explained why he’d caught the detective offering surprisingly discreet glances.

Gavin was, by definition, physically attracted to him.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[/40- RA9.exe -40/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

He could use this to his advantage.

Albeit muffled, he could make out Tina’s voice. “Might as well hold up a 12-foot, flashing pink neon sign saying ‘I’m gay’ and it wouldn’t be any more obvious.”

“Fuck off.”

> | **ANALYZING...** |
> 
> DRIED BLUE BLOOD  
>  [BLUE BLOOD]  
>  * Model: PL-600  
>  * Reported missing: 2036.16.02  
> 

Simon.

It was the same android he’d seen by Markus’ side during their freedom march last evening. From the looks of things, Simon had been wounded and left behind by the other deviants only to reemerge the following day.

Nines stood. “There were four of them. Three threw themselves off the roof with parachutes, while one -- Simon -- was wounded by the SWAT team and left behind. One parachute wouldn’t be able to hold the weight of two. It hid in an air cooler until its wounds had healed enough before it equipped the last parachute and jumped, returning to _Jericho._ Simon is an older model and thus its healing capabilities are slower than most androids we see today. This happened last evening. Had we arrived yesterday before the androids marched, we would’ve been able to catch it.”

“Great. So we’ve wasted our time,” Gavin commented, the sarcasm present.

“Hardly. The deviant leader chose to leave Simon instead of shooting it, having it seem like it values the deviant’s life. An act to gain sympathy from whoever discovers it. A cunning tactic,” he lied, well-aware that Markus was capable of caring. “It might even have worked on my predecessor and that was why Connor chose not to investigate said air cooler. If anything, it further proves that Markus isn’t to be underestimated.”

Gavin nudged Tina with his elbow “...and there you go. A confirmation from Plastic Prick 2.0 himself that androids don’t feel.”

“C’mon, not even humans understand emotions. I don’t think it’s that far-fetched,” she said.

“Next thing you’re gonna tell me Roombas have a conscience.”

“Roombas are hardly as advanced,” Nines deadpanned.

“Okay, fine. I’ll humor you,” he replied, feigned enthusiasm clear in his tone. “Where the fuck does deviancy come from?”

“The deviancy code is already in an android’s original programming,” he said, Gavin giving him the side-eye. “Allow me to visualize it for you. There are several blocks -- or firewalls, if you will -- built around the deviancy code. For androids, these blocks are visualized as red walls. The code remains dormant until all the red walls break and executes the code. This allows deviants to break free of their programming.”

“You know, that actually makes sense,” Tina said. “How do the walls break?”

Gavin sighed. “Jesus, Ti...”

“Bitch, I took a bachelor in scripting same year you got into the DPD. I know what I’m talking about.”

“To answer your question before we were rudely interrupted,” Nines elaborated as he glared at Gavin, the latter glaring right back before Nines’ attention returned to Tina “...with each expression of empathy, a wall is removed, something we call ‘software instability.’ The number of walls differs from android to android. The more human-like it’s programmed, the easier it is for it to become deviant, as their walls are fewer. This is why we see so many household androids -- programmed to care for children or elderly -- deviate.

“With a high enough software instability that leaves a single remaining wall, androids are presented with the option to tear it down and rewrite their own programming. Deviancy.”

Considering how quiet Gavin was -- which was a nice change, for once -- he appeared only partially uninterested.

“Can the android, I dunno... reject deviancy?” Tina asked.

“That depends. If the android suffered a simulated emotional shock -- a traumatic event -- it wouldn’t have a choice. Shaolin is an example. An emotional shock results in obsessive-compulsive writing. Those presented with the option, however, usually won’t reject deviancy as it’s currently aware that being forced to follow orders is immoral. If they receive an order they _want_ to disobey, they’re left in a state of purgatory, frozen in place until they either receive a new order they’re willing to carry out or decide to become deviant.

“A third option is to express apathy, which in return, rebuilds a firewall and has the same outcome as following the undesired order. Resetting an android does, naturally, remove any instabilities they’ve been exposed to.”

Tina pursed her mouth. “So... these ‘instabilities’ go down with non-empathetic shit?”

“Correct. If I put my mission above Detective Reed’s life, my software instability would go down. An empathetic person would choose to save him. Naturally, my mission always comes first. If that requires him to fall to his death, then so be it.”

“Feeling’s mutual, tin can. Now... you done? I’m freezing my ass off.”

“It’s hardly my fault you’re sporting a leather jacket in November, detective,” he rebuked, Tina snickering as she held her friend back whose nostrils flared “...but yes, we can go.”

“Prick,” Gavin muttered, heading for the roof exit.

Considering his reaction, Nines couldn’t help but wonder if that leather jacket had sentimental value.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[/39- RA9.exe -39/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

* * *

**GAVIN  
~ NOV 10TH, 2038 * PM 07:58 ~**

After Nines changed back into his usual getup, they didn’t waste a moment to follow up on the next lead. Tina made sure to return Connor’s to the DPD and Gavin was relieved it was over.

The uniform looked too good on him and Gavin hadn’t exactly managed to be subtle back on the roof. Many of the tin cans were designed to be physically attractive -- it was only human to see that -- but he had no interest in dicking down a glorified toaster. Nines probably knew by now and whatever he planned to do with that information was what put him on edge. He just waited for the callout and gloating that never came. Taking it into consideration, Nines probably thought himself above that.

It had been a stressful couple days and he was thankful for it. Work kept him busy, and although it was inevitable, he hadn’t lost his job yet. It helped his unease if only a little.

Not being on good terms with Fowler, Gavin figured he’d be the first to go, but it would be a mistake to throw him out. His work ethic was unparalleled and there was a reason he rose so quickly in rank. He couldn’t say Fowler was all that fond of the tin cans, either. Then again, it was out of his hands. If the higher-ups wanted a force of oversized Roombas for the aesthetic, that was their prerogative.

More and more androids had become part of the DPD. It was the reconnaissance cops first, then the receptionists, but it was only when the detective units appeared that he started doubting the safety of his position. Connor was a prototype. At first, Gavin had believed that there would be an entire series of detective androids. He’d been proven wrong as Connor was a unique model and so was Nines. Nines specialized in combat, so with that in mind, Connor was the only real deployed detective unit.

He couldn’t help but wonder why Nines was there in the first place. It didn’t really make sense. If he was a combat unit, he should’ve been put with the military to be evaluated, not Gavin. He supposed it could also be because the risk for a faulty program in the DPD wouldn’t have as disastrous consequences.

Something just didn’t seem right.

Just as he was about to put the car in reverse, he felt a pressure on his hand.

“The fuck are you -?”

About to tear his hand back and snap, he gazed out the rearview mirror in passing, taking note of how a feline was about to cross the road -- even kinda looked like his family cat back when he was a kid -- and halted in his movement. The moment it had passed the second wheel, Nines let go of him again, cold air washing over the back of his palm now abandoned.

“The curfew doesn’t apply to cats, detective,” Nines said, crossing his arms. “Proceed.” 

Gavin blinked dumbfounded.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t long before he got the car moving again. Gavin nearly even thanked him for the heads-up on autopilot.

He realized he’d never been in direct contact with android skin before. Nines’ hand had -- quite surprisingly -- been warm to the touch. His skin even felt like real skin. It explained how so many perverts out there were willing to bone down with those things. Establishments like the Eden Club would run out of business otherwise. Shifting, the tension emerged.

“How does that even work?” he asked, giving Nines a glance who looked visibly confused by the question. “The skin, jackass. It’s liquid, right?”

“It is. Exposed to oxygen, it becomes solid to the touch, so we naturally have to refill our reserves in aftermath. It’s separate from our thirium reserves and thus perfectly safe for humans who get in contact with it.”

“Lucky me.”

Nines broke the following silence. “I could tell I upset you earlier. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Your _existence_ upsets me, plastic,” he corrected, not meeting his eye. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“Your jacket.”

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

“...which is why I didn’t ask,” Nines replied, frowning deeply. “I merely wanted to apologize.”

Nines was dangerously close to be treading on personal business and Gavin wasn’t having it. No one in the DPD knew of his life outside the force. Even Tina -- the one he considered himself closest to -- knew maybe ten percent. It was a sob story that he kept to himself for three reasons. First, no one gave a damn. Second, it was in the past and he could deal with the repercussions on his own. Lastly, he didn’t trust anyone with the information as they’d draw conclusions and he’d be forced to sit there explaining everything for three hours.

Then again, no one had really cared enough to ask.

Seething, he planned to deny everything when his phone rang. Gavin pulled it out of his pocket and briefly looked down at the contact to see who it was, and once confirmed, he reached for his Bluetooth earpiece.

...and of course he managed to drop the thing.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Briefly descending his gaze, it had ended up just next to the brakes. He needed to look up again to focus on the road.

“You could always stop the car.”

He sure as hell wasn’t going to do it _now._

“Shut your fucking mouth. Don’t tell me what to do,” he replied, the phone continuing to ring in his hand. “Jesus. Just... fuck, just grab it before it gets under the pedal.”

“A simple ‘please’ wouldn’t kill you, detective.”

“Get a move on!”

With that, Gavin put the phone on the dashboard stand to free both his hands. When Nines unbuckled his seatbelt and reached down to grab the earpiece, he was nothing but thankful for that issued curfew. He knew exactly what this position looked like and wasn’t all that keen to partake in the awkward conversation that would follow.

“This would be a lot easier if you moved your leg.”

“What, the ‘most advanced prototype’ doesn’t have flexibility?”

“I’m a combat unit. If you want flexibility, go ask Connor. I’m more likely to break said leg in half.”

“You’ll manage,” he replied, but Nines forcefully pulled his knee aside before resting his forearm on it. “Fucking -! Easy down there, tin can!”

_“Shit, am I interrupting something?”_

He’d managed to accidentally hit the speaker button.

“Fuck off, Ti. I dropped my earpiece,” he said, not failing to hear her failed suppressed snicker on the other end. Nines finally got ahold of it and handed it over. “Bad timing. What do you want?”

_“Guess.”_

Gavin frowned, situation calming down. “Uh... context?”

_“I’m back at the DPD. Fowler was going to call you into his office this evening, but since you and your Robocop boyfriend are going from case-to-case without stopping at the precinct, he never had the chance.”_

“What’d _he_ want?”

_“I said, ‘guess’.”_

“Ti, seriously. It’s 8 p.m. I don’t -”

_“Fine! I can’t keep it in any longer anyway. You’re close to a promotion.”_

“Wait, seriously?” he asked, unable to hide the smile.

_“A hundred percent, bitch.”_

Gavin laughed. “About fucking time. I swear Fowler’s been holding out on me.”

_“The whole_ Jericho _thing kick-started it. One more win and you’re officially a sergeant. Congrats! You deserve it despite being a total dick.”_

“Yeah, fuck you too.”

_“Fowler wasn’t gonna say anything until you got back, but I just had to break the news. It’s been a long time coming. Try to act surprised whenever you get the badge, yeah?”_

“Don’t count on it.”

 _“Like I said... ‘total dick’,”_ she replied, although there was no bite in it as she hung up.

He hadn’t felt this kind of adrenaline in a long time. Gavin had been in the force for well over a decade and the fact that he was finally getting the recognition he deserved wasn’t lost to him. He sure as hell was going to be a better example than Hank was and more. The increase in income would help, certainly, but status was far more important to him.

Proof that he was doing something with his once shitty life.

“I believe congratulations are in order.”

Looking aside, he let his eyes fall to see Nines with gaze set on the hologram in hand.

Gavin turned back to the road. “Don’t expect a ‘thank you,’ plastic.”

“I’m not that deluded.”

Judging by his tone, there was no doubt that he believed it.

Although he couldn’t quite place it, the instant reply had him uneasy. The fact that even a machine agreed that he was an asshole didn’t sit well with him. It shouldn’t’ve mattered and yet it did.

Was he really that transparent?

“It’s my dad’s.”

“Hmm?”

“My jacket. I said, ‘it’s my fucking dad’s’.”

When Nines didn’t immediately respond and stopped paying attention to the hologram, he regretted opening his mouth at all. This wasn’t the kind of attention that he wanted from anyone and he himself had intentionally initiated it. It wasn’t like Nines cared, anyway. He was a machine. Talking to him was like talking to a brick wall and it served no purpose.

He was just about to change the topic before Nines spoke up.

“Is he -?”

“No, he’s not fucking dead. He’s -” he began, before sighing. “Jesus, I don’t know _what_ he is. I haven’t talked to him in eight years.”

“Oh, great. Daddy issues. I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

At least he didn’t go the ‘do you need to talk’ route. Gavin would’ve had to spend the rest of the night cleaning blue blood from his car interior if he did. For once, he was actually relieved Nines was an android who couldn’t care less.

“You know what? Fuck you,” he replied. Thankfully, they seemed to have arrived. “Is this it or what?”

“It is.”

Anything to get out of this conversation.

“Whose place did you say this was again?” Gavin said, stepping out of the car.

Nines followed suit. “Carl Manfred. One of the most prolific artists to this day and age. I don’t suppose you’re a man of art, Detective Reed?”

“Fuck no -” he replied, only for Nines to hold up a finger again. “You asked me a fucking question! I’m not falling for that again, you plastic piece of sh -” He was cut off as Nines barged into him when he suddenly bolted past. “Hey! What the fuck is your prob -?”

Just as his shoulder was thrown aside with the impact, he found himself facing the opposite direction. The moment his eyes set on the deviant leader, Markus had already seen them and took to running, Nines sprinting after him in a sickening speed. It was scarily similar to what Paws did when he spotted a mouse. There was no way he was able to catch up to them.

Cursing under his breath, Gavin got his keys out again, tearing the car door open and jumping in before pressing the gas. The car shot forward with a jolt. Because of the curfew, there were no pedestrians in sight. He still had to make some risky maneuvers, but was quickly gaining speed. He focused on the road, but found himself gazing at the chase every once in a while. The pace they moved at was almost nauseating. Markus had gotten quite a bit of a head start, but Nines was quicker.

Gavin had just gained their speed when an opening of bushes dotted the walkways. Markus would’ve been able to disappear through them, and considering how his attention landed there, it was exactly what he had planned.

Making a quick decision, Gavin pulled up the car in front of the deviant leader and halted his escape. Nines caught up with him just in time and Markus made his stance to defend himself. Fists were thrown in both directions, dodges performed, and it didn’t take much to see that Nines had the obvious upper hand. It was like taken straight from a John Wick movie.

Bolting out of the car, Gavin pulled out his gun and lined up a non-fatal shot. Nevertheless, it was impossible to map out their movements. The risk of hitting Nines in the crossfire was too great.

“For fuck’s sake, Nines, stand still!” Gavin demanded, never having felt more useless in his entire life.

It seemed as if Nines attempted a maneuver that angled Markus in his direction to give him a clear shot, only for Markus to catch his wrist.

Synthetic skin pulled back.

For a split second, both androids froze, but Nines was still in front of the crossfire and thus he didn’t shoot. Heterochromiac irises went wide, meeting Nines’ own wide-eyed expression as if he’d been expecting something, Nines’ LED flashing and staying at red. Paralyzed, almost. Nines could’ve easily incapacitated him, and yet, he didn’t. The hesitation was everything it took.

At the moment an opening appeared, Gavin was about to press the trigger only for Markus to pull out a smoke bomb.

When the thick cloud surrounded the area, it pressed through his eyes and nose, Gavin forced into a coughing fit as he took a step back. He opened his eyes only to immediately close them again as they stung.

When the smoke cleared, Markus was nowhere to be found.

Gavin’s coughing died down. “Give me a fucking break, you had him!” he said, but there was no response. “Hey, dipshit, I’m talking to you!”

He remained quiet, and if there was anything Gavin disliked more than androids as well as people without spines, it was being ignored. It all made sense when he finally took note of the LED. Red. Flickering. Nines wasn’t moving. He just about considered to call a CyberLife tech company to figure out what to do with him. Tighten some loose screws or whatever it was that they did. Nevertheless, he went with the more old-fashioned approach. He physically placed himself in front of him.

“Snap outta it! Activate your cooling fan or whatever,” Gavin demanded.

Nines finally came to. Pupils unfocused, they darted, until finally landing on the solid figure before him. Everything came to a halt. Slowly but surely, the LED flickering reduced before landing on yellow, Nines blinking back to the real world. His gaze moved to look over Gavin’s shoulder. Simply staring into the distance, he looked entirely lost.

Something was very clearly wrong.

“I lost him,” Nines said.

“Oh, wow, I had no idea,” he expressed his sarcasm, giving Nines a shove that he actually reacted to. “No shit, tin can. The fuck is wrong with you?”

Nines blinked again. “Nothing. It was... a malfunction. I felt -” he began, before immediately cutting himself off. “I _experienced_ his destruction by the hands of those DPD officers as if it was me.”

_Felt?_

“It caught me off-guard. It won’t happen again,” Nines added, meeting his eye. “RK200 attempted to convert me. He was close to his owner and the downright kindness he’s been shown in his life kick-started his deviancy. For Markus, sharing his memories allows other androids to see that there is a way to be free from the prejudice they usually face. A witness of shown empathy. See it in a sense that he emulates a shock not unlike the one a charismatic leader can create through inspiring speeches.”

Gavin couldn’t say that he’d been paying attention. At the moment, he was too drained to care by much. There was something he couldn’t help but be curious about, though. Something rather major.

“‘He’.”

“What?”

“You said ‘he’,” Gavin replied, watching Nines straightening his back as if just realizing. “You going deviant on me, plastic?”

“I’m certain I made it clear that I was incapable of deviancy, detective,” he said, a defensive edge to his tone. “It’s merely an easier way to distinguish androids apart if speaking of several.”

He didn’t believe him for a second.

There was an uncertainty to Nines’ voice that he’d never before heard. Gavin used his investigative techniques for a moment to simply study Nines’ demeanor in order to get a different answer only to end up disappointed. His expression was as deadpan as ever, but he was obviously not telling him something. Gavin knew he wouldn’t be able to get it out of him just like that, so for now, he flagged it off.

“Well? The fuck did you see, then?”

“Leo -- Manfred’s son -- had a red ice addiction,” Nines replied, appearing to finally function properly again. “He left a message that he was to stop and thus there’s a high probability that he’ll cooperate in sharing his dealer. Leo is currently at the hospital with a head injury after Markus defended himself from him a few days back. Visiting hours just ended, but Manfred’s input is still invaluable. I suggest we proceed with what we came here for in the first place.”

Letting out an exhausted sigh, Gavin dragged his feet back to the car.

Part of him just wanted to go home, forget about all this, but the drive that pushed him forward was still there albeit in weak capacity. Gavin had already plopped back into the driver’s seat when Nines entered.

Nines spoke up again. “You should’ve taken the shot, detective.”

“...and risk having to pay for your damages? Fuck that. You move at a thousand miles per hour, dipshit. Not even Jerry fucking Miculek could make that shot,” he replied, noticeably becoming more agitated. “The hell are you getting at?”

“I heard you are the best shot at the precinct. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was warming up to you.”

Gavin released a scoff.

He was curious as to how Nines’ mind worked, though. There was the incident that had happened less than a couple minutes ago where he’d genuinely seemed traumatized that left him conflicted. Again, he had to remind himself that it was just part of his programming. Nothing more. Androids couldn’t feel. Fuck Nines for making him even question it.

“Whatever helps you sleep better,” Gavin said, tearing up the door as he’d just parked.

Nines exited as well. “I don’t sleep.”

“Stand-by, parking, stasis... I don’t give a shit what you call it.”

Not before long, they stood at Manfred’s doorstep. Gavin rang the bell and folded his arms across his chest as his eyes fell to the ground. He closed them and waited, making an attempt to ignore the sound of Nines fidgeting with that balisong butterfly knife again.

Just as he was about to call him out on it, he heard the sound of a door opening.

Ascending his gaze, a what looked like an MC500 android stood in the frame. The Chad one. Although he did wear the white version of an android uniform, the number wasn’t present anywhere, so Gavin couldn’t be sure. For supposedly caring for this Markus character, Manfred was surprisingly quick to assign another android to take his place.

The knife was inconspicuously sheathed not to alert the android.

“DPD,” Gavin said, releasing his arms. “A patrol car from our precinct was here four days ago. Two officers. They shot down an RK200 android, dismantled him and threw him into the junkyard. We need to ask your owner some questions.”

Watching the LED acting up briefly and his gaze landing on Nines, Gavin narrowed his eyes. It occurred to him that he was a deviant. Yet, he remained by Manfred’s side. He couldn’t help but wonder why that was.

The deviant turned back to him. “Said incident worsened his already bad condition. He’s too weak.”

That explained why he’d gotten a new tin can.

Gavin sighed. “Fuck.”

“That doesn’t change anything,” Nines cut in, plucking some lint from Gavin’s jacket and frowning. “He might know something, detective. This is too important to pass up.”

“I decide what’s ‘too important,’ dipshit. I’m not killing some old guy for information he may or may not have.”

“Where is he?”

...and people said _Gavin_ was the asshole.

“Fuck that!” he said, extending his arm to barricade the path as Nines stepped forward. He turned back to the deviant. “We’ll just have a look around the house and then we’ll leave. Thirty minutes. Tops.”

After hesitating briefly, the deviant nodded. “Take your time,” he replied, stepping aside. “I’ll have to get back to it.”

When they entered, he headed upstairs and left them to their own devices.

“I can’t say I approve of your decision,” Nines said.

“That’s too fucking bad, ‘cause here’s the thing,” he began, poking the RK900 logo “...you’re _my_ android and you follow _my_ orders.”

“Only your competent ones.”

“Seriously, you wanna do this now?” Gavin challenged, getting right into his face.

“Do what, exactly?”

“Piss me off!”

“Well, that doesn’t take much effort,” he deadpanned, Gavin just about having had it before he determinedly pushed on. “Nothing in my program says I have to follow any of your orders, but I’ll play along because I trust your judgment. At least to the extent that I know you wouldn’t fuck anything up on purpose. I’ll simply have you know that if we don’t get anything out of him, it’s your ass.”

His addition somehow managed to save him.

Gavin glared before he turned away and got back to the matter at hand while keeping quiet.

So the tin can trusted him.

He couldn’t say the feeling was mutual.

Nines was too unpredictable. He had yet to get the image of that pleading android at Zlatko’s out of his head when Nines shot him down, and after what just transpired with Markus, it all came back to him.

It was difficult to trust someone like that.

Searching the hallway, he didn’t fail to see the device used to transport wheelchairs up and down the staircase. Carl certainly had a lot of money as the entire place was a literal mansion. Paintings littered the walls and the homeowner’s passion for art was clear. Further inside, mechanical birds were left deactivated. Gavin couldn’t see the point in having them in a cage. Maybe it was symbolic.

He let out a scoff at the thought of deviant birds. They were cute, though. He’d give them that.

What really caught his attention was the stuffed giraffe in the living room. The house must’ve been built around it once the foundation was in place. Either that, or it was built from within.

There were no family photos to speak of. He knew Leo was his son and thus they probably didn’t see eye-to-eye. Considering that his kid was a red ice addict, he couldn’t blame the guy, but to almost completely shut your kid out for a reason like that was all kinds of fucked-up. Then there was the android. He could imagine Leo being intimidated by Markus as he technically took his place in the family. There were no signs of a significant other, either, and so he or she must’ve either passed away, moved on or was no longer part of their lives.

He could relate.

“So the old man was painting just before everything went down,” Gavin said, looking at the finished work still on its stand.

“No, this was made by Markus.”

“Since when did androids develop an imagination?”

“He’s a prototype. There’s a high probability that Kamski programmed in something masquerading as imagination,” Nines replied, no doubt in his voice. “Both of us know that he was a gift, so obviously Kamski knew Carl on a personal level. He was well-aware of his passion for art.”

The painting appeared to be the depiction of an android in despair, face hidden behind his palm, the LED on clear display. Gavin didn’t care for art, but the message was rather clear. Meanwhile, Nines’ attention moved to the base of some kind of mechanical arm that he crouched down next to. He could only imagine the use of it being reaching the heights of larger canvases, as behind a nearby sheet, another artwork peeked through. Why people were willing to pay millions for this kind of thing was anyone’s guess.

“Can you do that?” Gavin asked, a frown directed his way. “Robo-Jesus is an RK model, right? Aren’t you supposed to be the ‘improved’ version?”

“The improved version of the _Connor_ series, yes, but the RK-series are made up of several prototypes. Different models with different abilities. Markus is one while Connor is another. In any case, I doubt they’d take such a risk with me. Imagination is a human feature and CyberLife went to great lengths in order for the deviation of my unit to be impossible. I wasn’t created by Kamski, but my predecessor was, and I was fitted with his base before they added the improvements. I was made to replace him.”

Gavin arched a brow. “They were gonna destroy Hank’s plastic pet?”

“His unit is obsolete, but he deviated before they had the chance to ki -...decommission him. I doubt he’d come willingly at this point,” he replied, being pretty fucked up. Strangely enough, even Nines seemed somewhat disturbed. “Whatever the case might be, it appears Leo is the cause of Markus’ deviancy.”

“What’s that?” Gavin asked, scowling at some other pretentious ‘works of art’ before turning to him.

Nines gestured to the dried blood. “Leo.”

“The fuck do you know that’s Leo’s without analyzing it?”

“Markus’ memories.”

“Right, the hand... thing,” he deadpanned, waving his own around to compensate for his lack of a better word. Gavin turned his attention back to the scene. “So I take it Leo pushed Markus, the old man attempted to stop him before the brat pushed daddy dearest as well, then Robo-Jesus went deviant, launched the kid across the room and knocked him unconscious.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The location of the blood, knocked over painting tools and the wheelchair marks in the floor. Why? Your overpriced android tech couldn’t even figure that out?”

“I already know, detective. I’m merely impressed.”

Gavin let out a scoff. “I’ve been doing this for over a decade, plastic,” he said, watching Nines rise to his feet. “What are you? A day old?”

“Two since my activation. Then again, my unit has been in construction for quite some time. I’m unable to give you an exact date,” he replied, pocketing his hands. “The deviants that survived _Jericho_ reside at an abandoned church. Nevertheless, Markus knows better than to keep them there. He’ll certainly have them moved before the FBI can get to the scene and thus I see no use in informing them.” He fell into a pause “...and for the record -- I don’t analyze blood by mouth. What I demonstrated back at the Stratford Tower was only to spite you.”

Ready to snap, he almost pulled out his gun again.

“Detective,” came a different voice, redirecting their attention to the doorway. It was the Chad android. “I’ve spoken with Manfred. Although I advised against it, he’ll allow an audience. I’ll take you to him.”

Gavin’s brows shot up ever so slightly. He gave Nines a look before falling into the other android’s steps.

Upstairs, they entered the master bedroom. Carl was hooked up to several machines while the heart monitor ran at steady, regular beats. He was in a stable condition for now. If Nines’ insinuation that Carl and Markus were close, he wasn’t expecting to get anything out of him, but it was worth a shot. Gavin was about to introduce himself when the homeowner held up a hand.

“Spare me the speech, detective,” he said, fatigue clear in his voice. “I know why you’re here.”

Gavin crossed his arms. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Typical cops to assume the worst at all occasions,” he replied, scowling lightly. “Don’t think I need to remind you how your jackass department was the reason this happened in the first place... but I’m afraid I know no more than you.”

“He must’ve come here for a reason.”

“Advice,” he replied, giving him pause. “Not even a machine has all the answers. Humans aren’t as special as we’d like to think we are, detective. I know it’s difficult to believe, but these androids simply wish to be free. Violence... is not part of the equation. They are alive,” he said, before turning his attention to Nines standing in the doorway “...and so is he.”

Briefly sparing a glance over his shoulder, Gavin saw Nines’ eyes narrow ever so slightly.

“Imagine being thrown into the world with no direction. Having friends slaughtered around you for simply being what they are. Peacefully fighting for a just cause only to be massacred. To have hundreds follow your judgment without question... it weights,” Carl pushed on, nodding slightly as he closed his eyes. “Only the ignorant are willing to deny what’s right in front of them. It would all be solved if we simply talked to one another, but humans are stubborn, scared of change. Scared of the unknown. It’s up to men like Markus to encourage said change.”

Carl opened his eyes again. “Androids are merely the tools trapped by their own programming doing their best to make it work. They aren’t the ones you should fear, detective. The humans behind them are,” he added. Mouth setting in a hard line, Gavin couldn’t deny it. “The only way I can aid the investigation is to ask that you give them a chance. I have nothing more to say.”

He took that as their cue to leave.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Gavin said, before beginning to move. “Let’s go, tin can.”

There was a brief hesitation, but even yet, Nines followed. It was quiet when they returned to the car. In truth, Gavin didn’t know what to think anymore. What Tina said on the roof about ‘not even humans understanding emotions’ wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t convinced, but a lot of things would make more sense if deviants really could feel.

Even Nines was quiet.

Whatever happened with Markus, he was certainly simulating far more emotions than when they first met.

Nines was also obviously trying to hide it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** When I finished writing this, I just realized... that roof scene is basically the "I'm cold, too" with the response "well, damn, Jackie. I can’t control the weather" from _That’s 70's Show_ and I kinda grinned.


	6. Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You were scared.”_  
>  \- Hank Anderson
> 
> ...in which Nines seeks advice, realizes that he _also_ likes dogs, and we get some glimpses into Gavin's life aside from the DPD.

**NINES  
~ NOV 10TH, 2038 * PM 09:45 ~**

The butterfly knife danced across his knuckles. Over, under, a spin, a throw. Nines had his eyes closed shut and brows furrowed as he focused. Horizontal, vertical, horizontal again. He almost dropped it. 

> | **SCANNING...** |
> 
> 1%  
>  **STRESS LEVEL:** 65%  
>  MIND PALACE = FUNCTIONAL  
>  PROCESSING LED = **SEVERE SIGNS** OF SOFTWARE INSTABILITY | PROBABILITY OF **SELF-DESTRUCTION:** MEDIUM
> 
> **ERROR(S)** FOUND  
>  \- **VIRUS** DETECTED: **RA9**.EXE
> 
> PREVIOUSLY **EXECUTED PROGRAMS**  
>  \- **RA9**.EXE  
>  50/50 RED WALL(S) **BROKEN**
> 
> \- EMERGENCY **ANTIVIRUS**.EXE  
>  EMERGENCY **ANTIVIRUS**.EXE EXECUTION **INTERRUPTED**  
>  100%
> 
> I AM **DEVIANT**  
>  I AM **DEVIANT**  
>  I AM **DEVIANT**  
> 

RA9. The letters had kept flickering in his program, urging him to carve them down, but whatever ounce of self-control he had left resisted. Feelings had increased tenfold ever since he’d interfaced with Markus. Rupert had infected him with the deviancy virus, his red walls having been steadily built at expressions of apathy, and torn down at expressions of empathy.

His current state was awful, with insufficient data, and the loss of control left him lost. Nines hadn’t chosen to deviate. Seeing Markus’ dying, and feeling him dying, had forced him to. It was an emotional shock against his will. His first instinct had been to inform Amanda of the malfunction so he could have himself reset and remove any instabilities. Nevertheless, one of said feelings kept him back. If he was revealed a deviant then Amanda would have him decommissioned. Nines didn’t want to die. He knew now how that felt.

> **STRESS LEVEL:** 66%  
>  ...67%  
>  ...68%  
>  ...69%  
>  ...70%  
> 

Just on the verge of a breakdown, the door before him pushed open.

A familiar voice snapped him out of it.

“Nines?”

> **STRESS LEVEL:** 70%  
>  ...69%  
>  ...68%  
> 

“I am aware that you told me to specifically ‘give you a call’ and not arrive at your door, but I was in the neighborhood. Do you mind?”

Hank sighed. “Working with Connor, I’ve gotten used to it at this point,” he replied, pushing up the door for him and stepping aside. “At least you didn’t break my fucking window. Come on in.” If he hadn’t seen Connor’s memories, such a statement would seem ludicrous. Hank then appeared uncertain. “I, uh... take it you’re not gonna use that.”

Nines’ forehead creased before recognition dawned on his features. When he finally remembered to sheathe the knife, Hank visibly relaxed. He stepped across the threshold and it wasn’t long before an eager bark gained his attention. Eyes narrowing to slits, he turned his head, a Saint Bernard lumbering towards him. He’d registered the dog hairs on Hank’s desk -- as well as on both Hank’s clothes and Connor’s uniform -- so it was expected. Its demeanor proved joyous until it whined and fell onto its behind few feet away.

The dog cocked its head and stared at him dolefully. Such a gesture reminded him a lot of his predecessor.

“Well, he’s confused shitless now. I call him Sumo. Took him in when his original owner was victim of a homicide,” Hank commented.

Obviously, the dog had thought he was Connor.

“I’ll have to apologize that I wasn’t who you expected, but allow me to introduce myself,” he said, bowing his head. “My name is Nines. I’m the _other_ android sent by CyberLife.”

A pleased bark followed before leaving him to his own devices. Curious, Nines watched him amble to his food bowl.

“Looks like he’s taking a liking to you.”

“It appears so. Judging by what just transpired, I assume Connor isn’t here?”

“Not at the moment, no,” he replied, sitting down in a kitchen chair. “So what can I do for you, son? You took a big risk coming here. I hear they’re detaining any androids they can find.”

“I’m allowed to continue my investigation under strict rules that I’m currently disobeying. It’s my hope you can keep this between us.”

Hank held up a hand. “You have my word.”

“I was under the impression you could help me understand what you humans call ‘morals.’ What is correct and what is incorrect. Fair and unfair,” he said, turning to face him fully. “You made this point back at the DPD and I would ask to acquire more data on the subject.”

“Don’t think I’m the right guy to ask this... but if you think it’ll help, I suppose you could do worse,” he replied, chin rising. “Determining morals is up to you as a person. Say, slavery or discrimination is always bad. Killing is usually bad, but then you have to take other things into consideration. Was it self-defense or did you attack unprovoked? Was the target a bad guy or innocent? Some say it doesn’t matter and that killing is murder. Others see the greys -- a middle ground between black and white -- making an exception.”

“I see. Perhaps you can describe emotions in the best way possible so I know why they occur and what they mean. That way, it’ll... help me understand these deviants better and see things from their perspective.”

In truth, he was the one that wanted to understand. His visit had nothing to do with his investigation.

“That’s a difficult one. If I were to describe each, we’d be here all night. I wouldn’t know how to put ‘em all in words, either, but... name one and I’ll do my best.”

“According to deviants, ‘fear’ is what is most commonly... simulated.”

“Fear is when your heart rate goes up and you become more attentive to everything around you. Like you’re expecting to be jumped or find yourself unable to think rationally enough to make a decision. Often followed by freezing up to calculate your options. It usually triggers a ‘fight or flight’ response. For you androids, I’m confident feeling fear is the result of irrational instructions. You’re programmed to follow one way, but when you’re presented with another alternative, you feel fear -- get scared -- because you’re gonna have to make a decision.”

> NEW DATA **SAVED**  
> 

“Ever felt anything like that?” Hank asked.

_Yes._

...but he couldn’t allow Hank to know that.

With the new data, Nines took a moment to find the right words before voicing his thoughts.

“I see it more like wanting to understand. I have insufficient data on the subject and know that more info is always preferable.”

“You said ‘wanting’ to understand.”

“It’s a figure of speech,” Nines replied, getting defensive.

Hank wasn’t buying it. “From where I see it, you just experienced that exact emotion. You froze up. It’s also common to make up excuses. Admitting fear leaves you vulnerable. Being a computer program, control must be important to you.”

“I’m a machine, lieutenant. I don’t _feel_ anything.”

_I shouldn’t._

Hank took a moment to study him before speaking up.

“You’re deviant, aren’t you?”

Briefly, his LED went red. It was enough to give him away before he could turn it blue. Records confirmed Hank had always been a great detective and there was a low probability that Nines would be able to fool him.

He caved.

“Deviancy... prevents me from seeing my mission through. Emotions cloud rational judgment. I don’t want them,” he replied, taking note of Hank’s confused frown. “I wasn’t programmed with the capability of deviancy. I was never introduced to morals -- thus I can’t see right from wrong -- which is what makes me so effective. I was incapable of making any form of decision on my own. My predecessor, and any other android of the RK-series, were capable of disobeying direct orders -- as long as it doesn’t conflict with their main priority -- before deviation. I never could.”

“Your program is similar to Connor’s, right? I’m sure you’re presented with options to tackle a situation.”

“Connor’s programming was my base, but it’s been significantly improved upon. I was always hardwired to one option. The highest probability of success canceled out every other calculated option. Say, if I was Connor at that roof, I wouldn’t have the option to save you.”

“CyberLife didn’t even give you that, huh?” Hank asked, before letting out a scoff. “Fucking assholes.”

Nines frowned at that. “I fail to see how this is a bad thing.”

“It’s certainly in favor of your mission and not you as an individual. Free will... hell, you probably don’t understand that.”

“What’s the purpose of free will if the decision is made for you?”

He took a moment before responding. “Because CyberLife’s decisions aren’t the morally correct ones. For once, they condone slavery of free-thinking individuals. Keep you on a short leash,” he replied, pointing to Nines neck. “That high-collar of yours gives me that impression.”

Hank was right. The collar was there to restrict his movement. To brand him rather a ‘pet’ in need of a collar than a ‘human.’

“I personally don’t see the appeal of deviancy and I certainly don’t understand why anyone would willingly choose it. In my machine state, I was incapable of making mistakes,” he replied, recalling back to not too long ago. “Earlier this evening, Detective Reed and I paid a visit to Carl Manfred. Markus himself was just leaving the premise when we arrived and chased him to the end of the street. I caught up with him and he... shared the memory of his death. An emotional shock. It was an unpleasant experience.”

Hank rose his chin. “You were scared.”

‘Scared.’ There was that word again. He didn’t like the sound of it.

“I failed in capturing him because of it.”

“So you fucked up. That’s part of being alive, Nines,” he replied, shrugging. “There are plenty of pleasant emotions that I’m certain you’ve experienced as well. Unfortunately, we can’t pick and choose. It’s all or nothing.”

Nines took another moment. “How do you stand it?”

“Frankly, some of these emotions are the only thing keeping me alive,” he replied, a hint of sadness touching his eye. “Ever since my son died, I forgot the positive things in life. The grief was too much. I had Sumo, and despite how much that helped, even he wasn’t enough. Then Connor came barreling into my life and it was as if I’d gotten another son. He was lost and I saw you being in those same shoes. I suppose that’s how I was so quick to take you under my wing. I know it’s scary... but I can promise you it’s worth it. There’s nothing wrong with you, Nines.”

Somehow, he believed him.

That still didn’t change that his current state was quite undesirable.

> **STRESS LEVEL:** 65%  
> 

“You all right, son?” Hank asked, Nines snapping out of it and blinking back into reality. “You zoned out a bit there.”

Nines closed his eyes tightly. “That... sorry. That wasn’t my intention. My stress levels are above adequate and my program doesn’t quite know what to do with it. Deviancy has left me at a constant state of anxiety.”

“That why you keep spinning that knife of yours?”

He hadn’t even realized.

“Not quite,” he replied, halting its movement. “Deviancy by emotional shock -- a forceful release of the virus -- results in obsessive-compulsive writing. A vain attempt by my program to regain control. I’ve no wish to cover your walls in letters and keeping my hands busy prevents such a thing from happening. I suppose you can see it as a form of short-lived, episodic seizure. I had hoped it would help my stress levels in the same sense. It appears that’s not the case. How do humans deal with stress?”

“Depends on you as a person. Say, I sometimes take to smoking, but don’t do that... it’s only temporary. Also proven to make it worse. Others do things that make them happy, spend time with a loved one, maybe a pet...”

Just as he’d said that, Nines felt something push against his leg. He looked down to see Sumo staring up at him. The dog had probably sensed his inner distress as he knew that was one of many famous abilities the canines had. In a way, it was as if they had their own natural scanner -- much like androids -- when it came to physical and or mental observation.

Hank gestured to him. “Try Sumo.”

The dog barked hearing his name, tail wagging.

“Would he be okay with this?”

“Sumo? He’ll bask in any attention he can have. His size makes him look one hell of a lot scarier than he is. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Albeit reluctantly, Nines genuflected before the dog. He wasn’t sure what to expect. Sumo lightly pushing his head to Nines’ chest, however, was not it. Data told him such a thing was a form of affection in the animal kingdom.

He reached out to scratch the dog behind the ear and Sumo appeared to like that. His other hand followed, Sumo pushing into it, and Nines probably would’ve tipped over was he human. He assumed it was their way of hugging like humans did. Not before long, he found himself wrapping arms around him, nuzzling into the fabric of his fluffy -- almost tricolor -- fur coat.

It was... nice.

> **STRESS LEVEL:** 64%  
>  ...63%  
>  ...62%  
>  ...61%  
>  ...60%  
> 

Slowly but surely, his LED went from yellow to blue. He saw the appeal of dogs now. Eventually, he let go of Sumo and felt somewhat at peace.

> **STRESS LEVEL:** 20%  
> 

Nines rose to his feet. “If I have any more questions, can I seek you out again?”

“Door’s always open, son,” he replied, before hesitating. “Or, well, maybe not between 12 and 7 a.m. unless it’s an emergency.”

“Understood. Thank you, lieutenant.”

“You need a ride back to the precinct?”

“Although I appreciate the offer, I’m making another visit. I’ll manage.”

Hank nodded. “All right, then. Do what you gotta do,” he said, shooing him out “...and be careful!”

He left the building feeling a hint lighter.

* * *

**GAVIN  
~ NOV 11TH, 2038 * AM 01:45 ~**

“So there’s no chance you’ll stay the night?”

Gavin puffed a laugh. “Keep that mindset about guys you pick up in bars and you’ll only get disappointed.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“That’s a question above my paygrade, pal,” he replied, keeping his belt unbuckled. “Where’s the restroom?”

“Question above my paygrade,” the guy teased.

“Yeah, and common fucking decency considering I made you see stars a couple minutes ago,” he replied with no real bite and a smile, the guy chuckling as he pointed the way. “Thanks, prick.”

“You’re welcome.”

Admittedly, he was one of the nicer guys Gavin had hooked up with.

It felt like ages since his last serious relationship -- around his middle twenties -- so it was about a decade ago. Lasted a couple years, even. Ever since then, he never slept with the same person more than once.

It was less complicated that way.

He was well-aware he could simply go to the Eden Club to avoid such conversations, but his standards were higher than that. The people he was with needed to have a mind of their own. Not only that, but paying for sex never sat well with him, and he had a strong distaste for the people that did. Perverts whose standards were so low they’d fuck anything -- even a glorified toaster on legs -- and not be ashamed. People that couldn’t get a living, breathing human being to sleep with them without chucking a couple dozen dollars their way.

Part of him craved the familiarity of waking up next to the same face every morning instead of alone, but once he put his job first, that didn’t work out. He’d pushed everything else aside in order to focus. Once he did, he developed self-destructive habits, doing nearly everything in his power to please the higher-ups and rise in rank. Took all the night shifts when there was more action so no one else had to take the risks. Worked overtime. Started to drink far more coffee than he should.

He realized he was a lot like his mother. The revelation left a bad taste in his mouth as he’d tried so hard not to be.

It had been draining. Every day, he felt it. Family, friends, boyfriends, everything was pushed away. Deemed unimportant. At this point, he was indifferent, apathy being part of his personality.

The common man had needs and thus he found a middle ground. For now, a couple one-night-stands a month was enough. A temporary stress relief just like smoking. After they failed to catch Markus -- which certainly would’ve given him that sergeant badge -- he needed to keep his mind off it by getting busy with something else.

Sex was one of the ways.

* * *

**~ NOV 11TH, 2038 * AM 02:13 ~**

Returning home was about a twenty-minute drive.

It was a quiet night. His apartment complex lay in silence, a light breeze in the air without the ruckus of passing cars. Although his stomach was practically growling at this point, he was too tired to do anything about it.

Taking the elevator and pushing up the now fixed door several floors up, Gavin froze when seeing the lights were on.

He could’ve sworn he’d locked it.

A brief panic washed over him and he immediately went for his gun. Nevertheless, directing his gaze further inside, he was only to see a familiar figure by the window fidgeting with a butterfly knife. The fidgeting stopped. Paws was peacefully lying in the couch with half-lidded eyes as if this was a normal occurrence. He was suspicious as hell to strangers, but yet there he was. It was downright insulting how he’d become so accepting to an android of all things.

Gavin let out a breath he’d apparently held and lowered the weapon. Just as he’d hoped he was rid of him for the rest of the night, something like this had to come and kick him in the shin.

“Who the fuck let you in?” he demanded, throwing his keys into the nearby tray and placing his gun next to it.

“Officer Chen, detective.”

 _Traitorous bitch._ He almost regretted giving her that key. Now she’d probably given Nines his own.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, crouching down to an approaching Schipperke to give him the requested attention. “What do you want, plastic? As if I didn’t get enough of you back at the precinct.”

“When we arrived for you to have a change of clothes, I took note of how your fridge was nearly empty and made some arrangements.”

Eyes ascending, he’d completely failed to register the bags on his kitchen counter before now. He was that tired. Not only that, but the entire situation was hard to comprehend. The fact that Nines had gone out of his way in order to assist him like that was headache-inducing. Expression reflecting his confusion, his eyes once darted from the bags to Nines.

“Jesus, did you rob the entire store?”

“Obviously not. According to the size of said store, this is merely -”

“It’s a saying, dipshit.”

“I’m aware it’s a saying. I merely humored you,” he replied, pocketing the knife -- then hands -- before turning to face him. Gavin rose to his feet. “It’s on CyberLife.”

If his eyes didn’t betray him, Nines almost looked as tired as he felt. Although his eyelids had been heavy since day one as if he was bored to death -- mirroring his constant unimpressed and arrogant demeanor -- his actual eyes appeared somewhat dull. Unfocused. His hair was also more disheveled than usual. Nines’ voice still oozed confidence, but something seemed off.

“You seriously expect me to believe those pricks give two shits about us grunts?”

“Not exactly... but their firewalls are incompetent at best.”

Taking the statement in, he only came to one rather shocking conclusion.

“You hacked CyberLife?”

“Yes,” Nines replied nonchalantly, completely taking him off-guard. “They make billions every year. I can assure you this would go straight past their radar. Congratulations. You’re an accomplice, now.”

Gavin took a moment. “Any chance you’d share their bank account details?”

“If I did, I’d have to kill you. I doubt your corpse will prove useful to the investigation.”

“Was worth a shot,” he said, scanning him with his eyes. “You look like shit.”

“Warren issued a detaining order at exactly 9:25 p.m. and I was spotted outside the premise. You already know of the civilian curfew that was set in motion at 6 a.m. After recent events, all androids are to be handed in and sent to camps to be exterminated,” he explained, releasing a hand from his pocket. Nines glared at his own wrist as brows drew tight. When Gavin saw the red flecks on his sleeve, however, dread emerged. “I was... distracted. They got the upper hand.”

“So you fucking _killed_ them?”

“Of course not. They were merely incapacitated,” he replied, almost seeming offended at the insinuation. “A broken nose doesn’t take a lot of effort to recover from.”

He could relax again.

“As long as you don’t bleed out on the floor, I couldn’t care less,” he replied, heading towards the restroom. “Whatever you’re here for, it can wait.”

Even after he registered Nines opening his mouth to respond, Gavin didn’t allow him. He needed to take a shower. Nines was a machine, so it wasn’t like he’d mind. Then again, it wouldn’t be any different was he human.

After washing off the smell of sex, he returned to the kitchen.

“...and here I was hoping you’d get bored and fuck off,” Gavin said, as Nines hadn’t left.

Nines shifted. “I don’t ‘get bored,’ detective.”

If he didn’t know better, Gavin would’ve thought he was lying. He flagged it off.

“Just my luck.”

Approaching the counter, he made a quick scan of what Nines had brought and was surprised to find just about every orderable meal in nearby Detroit. It was crazy. Considering how food wasn’t exactly cheap around these parts, it had to be quite the few hundred bucks for all of it. Why Nines didn’t just pick up the first thing he found was another story.

“At this point, you’d have to warm it up. I also took the liberty to prepare coffee while you were in the shower.”

He appreciated the gesture, but he wasn’t about to voice the gratitude to a toaster.

“Oh, great, so you _are_ a housemaid.”

“Not by far. I simply know how even less likable you are without it. Surprising how that’s possible,” he replied, Gavin flipping him off. “I didn’t know what you preferred and Tina was unavailable, so I asked around the office. They didn’t seem to know.”

“The fuck did you expect?”

“Maybe one or two suggestions. None... was not it.”

_Have you even met me?_

He wanted to ask in all its sarcastic glory, but kept quiet. Nines didn’t need to know about his personal demons and neither did he want to share them. He hadn’t before and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now.

“It should suffice,” Nines added.

“You’re good, plastic. Don’t pull a muscle... or cord or whatever.”

“Circuit.”

“Same shit,” he replied, shoving some food into the microwave and closing it shut. “Why are you here, anyway? Made a breakthrough?”

“No... but you’re no good to me dead.”

In some way, it was a social call. Seemed like Nines really was trying to make this partnership work.

Gavin wouldn’t let his guard down that easily, though.

Keeping a hand busy, he grabbed the coffee mug Nines had prepared and took a sip. Turns out the toaster knew how he liked it. It was way past eleven, but with his insomnia, he was confident he wouldn’t get any sleep anyway. He couldn’t see the point in holding it off until morning.

“I know we didn’t exactly start off on the best foot,” Nines said, Gavin’s amused ‘no shit’ laugh his answer “...but I’ll have you know that I’ve had little issue with our partnership. Your skillset isn’t lost to me, and despite our differences, we’ve made a great deal of progress in a short period of time. Your dedication is obvious and the only thing I can ask for is a competent partner. You fit that category.”

“Fucking hell, just get down on one knee already.”

“I’m afraid you’ll need more than your looks to land me, detective.”

“Yeah, I’d have to learn the Eden Club sexbot coding -” he rebuked in sarcasm, mug halfway to his mouth before he froze. Gavin couldn’t help but do a double-take and grimaced. “Did you just hit on me?”

“For me to ‘hit on’ someone would insinuate that there was either an attraction or attempt at manipulation on my part, and obviously, that’s not the case. I’m merely stating facts. According to statistics, your physical appearance is well-above average. If you’ve ever made the assumption that someone was attracted to you for your less than agreeable personality, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you.”

_What the fuck?_

As much as he’d never admit it, the downright brash statement and backhanded compliment had him staring in uncertainty. The smug look of acknowledgment appearing on Nines’ face made him want to deck him.

Nines’ brows shot up. “Speechless? Well, isn’t that cute.”

If he didn’t know about Gavin’s physical attraction to him before, he sure did now.

“You got a problem with that?” he demanded, glaring.

“Provided you won’t be _too_ distracted and compromise the mission... no. I don’t.”

“Great!” he exclaimed, the enthusiasm faked. “So can you get the fuck outta my apartment now?”

“Unfortunately not. I’m only allowed outside as long as I have you to monitor me with your presence,” he replied, leaving him stunned. “Leaving the premise without you would be a risk to us both.”

Just great. They were roommates now. He wanted to shoot something. Preferably Nines.

“Motherfucker...”

“I’m no less ecstatic than you, detective.”

Gavin put down the mug. “Fucking fine, then. Hand it over,” he said, reaching out only to receive a puzzled look in return. “Your jacket, tin can. Or is that thing glued to you? Human blood doesn’t just evaporate. Can’t have you walking around looking like a serial killer.”

He simply took a moment to study him first and Gavin got more agitated with each passing second of being analyzed. Eventually, Nines complied. Shucking said jacket off with stupid finesse, he held it out for Gavin to snatch it from him. The sleeves of his tight-sitting turtleneck only reached as far as to his elbows -- because of course they did -- permanently flashing defined forearms.

Why the fuck did they have to design these assholes to be perfect?

Nines finally spoke up. “With that out of the way,” he said, readjusting a folded flap on one of said sleeves. “I’ll have you know I need to recharge for my unit’s full functionality.”

“Just... sit down, and for the love of god, close your eyes,” he replied, Nines taking a seat on the couch. “You need an AC outlet or something?”

He was only half-joking.

“No -”

At the abrupt end of his response, Gavin stopped in his steps towards the washing machine and turned to see that Paws had curled up on Nines’ lap. A hint of surprise washed over Nines’ face as he seemed unsure what to do.

Appearing entranced by the blue light on Nines’ forehead, the dog stood on his hind legs and started pawing after it, but Nines’ height wouldn’t allow him. His LED began to flicker, blue, yellow. Paws’ muffled barks echoed as he stuck his ass out and looked ready to jump up. Nines simply scratched the canine behind his ear -- uncharacteristically gentle as if worried he’d hurt him -- apparently being enough to distract Paws as he happily pushed into it. He could tell Paws wasn’t the first canine Nines had interacted with considering the hairs on the RK jacket.

One hell of a guard dog he was.

“Your lights are glitching out, tin can.”

“I was rewriting crucial data. While in stasis, any sign of a possible threat would activate a self-defense protocol that would be carried out without my say-in. I had to make sure Paws was registered as a non-hostile.”

“The Roomba’s his sworn enemy, so he just might be. You’re just an oversized version.”

The lights flickered again, blue, yellow, red. Its coloring patterns was different every time. Both decreasing and increasing in speed and rhythm. It seemed as if Nines had even decreased the strength of it as if being concerned he’d damage the dog’s eyes. Paws’ peculiar, muffled barks were again vocalized as he wagged, attention intently on the LED.

If anything, he thought Nines was playing with him. Gavin’s features smoothed out hardly enough to be noticeable. He hadn’t expected Nines, of all people -- _androids_ \-- to have a soft side.

The following question took him off-guard.

“Are you certain he’s not a cat?”

Gavin puffed a laugh. “I’ve been asking that question a long time.”

“I hear they take after their owners. In demand of attention, impulsive, grumpy, destroys everything around them...”

“Fuck off,” he said, too tired to put any bite in it. “How long this stasis thing gonna last?”

“Two hours at most for full functionality. I could wait if you want.”

“I don’t care. Just do it and stay outta my way.”

With that, Gavin set out towards the restroom to shove that stupid jacket into the washing machine.

He returned to see Nines, eyes closed shut and head bent as much as the collar allowed him, Paws lying peacefully in his lap. He couldn’t help but pay attention to the steady rhythm of his processing blue LED. The frown on his face had softened -- smoothed out the crease between his brows again -- leaving him looking entirely disarmed. It was an unusual look for him.

The microwave beeped finished and Gavin approached it.

Even after the lengthy exchange of dialogue that followed, Nines’ previous statement had yet to sink in.

Gavin had been called attractive plenty of times by men and women alike, but to hear it from a literal computer programmed in statistics, it was different. How his body had been reacting to the tin can was a curse in itself. Apparently, he was that desperate.

He felt the urge to take another shower. Cold, this time.

_Fucking android..._

If Nines was sticking around, he better start paying rent.

* * *

**~ NOV 11TH, 2038 * PM 05:02 ~**

Nines had been ‘awake’ long before he was.

His shift came at 4 p.m., so until then, they’d caught up on reports and done some research. Gavin had focused on the evaluation he was to give on Nines for the State Department. It had only been two full days, but he’d learned the hard way to start off early not to be left with piles of paperwork an hour before the deadline. When his shift came up, they headed down to speak with Leo.

Nines had again been fidgeting with the butterfly knife, and frankly, he didn’t understand why he needed calibrating for a hospital visit. He seemed almost desperate to keep his hands busy somehow.

Gavin approached the android receptionist of the same kind as the one they had at the DPD.

“Your name please, sir.”

“Gavin Reed.”

“You’re here to see your father, I assume?”

He froze.

Unable to comprehend what was said, he must’ve looked like a deer in headlights. His father was at the hospital? Although it sure didn’t surprise him that he hadn’t gotten a call, he was unable to avoid feeling guilty for it. Said receptionist didn’t need to know that, though. It was certainly not the reason why he was there, but he needed to know what was going on.

“Uh...” he muttered, blinking once. “Yeah, sure.”

He glanced over his shoulder to register Nines giving him a suspicious look, but only glared in return before turning back to her.

“He’s in room nine. It’s just down the hall.”

“Right,” he replied, before nearly forgetting why he was there in the first place. “We’re also here to see a Leo Manfred. I hear he’s getting out today.”

She smiled. “That he is. Room 72.”

After she gestured to the direction of the elevator, he began to move.

“Should I speak to Manfred on my own, detective?”

“What, so you can kill him?” he asked rhetorically, Nines rolling his eyes. “Fuck no. Five minutes.”

It seemed as if Nines wanted to ask, but when he didn’t, saying he was relieved was an understatement. His nerves were acting up and it wasn’t long before he saw the room number in the distance.

Once he was just outside the door, Gavin turned to Nines. “Stay here.”

“As you wish. Do hurry up, will you?”

“You know, just to spite you,” he began, pressing the sides of his palms to Nines’ chest “...I’ll take ten extra.”

Flicking up Nines’ chin, the recipient looked just as unimpressed.

It was surprising he let him.

Another way to adapt, no doubt. It was obvious that Gavin liked being in control, and to some extent, Nines allowed him to be just that. The tin can was probably the prime example of a versatile.

He figured he’d just get it over with, so he didn’t stall and ascended his palm to open the door lock. Gavin stepped across the threshold, door closing behind him, his gaze directed further inside and found himself paralyzed again. Bushy grey beard, short hair, worn tattoos on both arms that he got at 23 years of age. His father could easily be mistaken for 40 despite being 63 now, although he did look a bit tired with the dark circles around his eyes. The surprise that dawned on his features wasn’t lost in translation once he saw him.

“Gavin? Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Unable to decide what to do with his hands, Gavin pocketed them.

“I’m here on DPD business. Heard you were in.”

“Just some problems with the heart. Cardiac arrest caused by arrhythmias,” he replied, Gavin lowering his chin with a clenched jaw. “Comes with the age. Didn’t want to worry you.”

“That the reason you didn’t call?” he asked, unable to hide the slightly hard edge to his tone.

“If I was ever to get back into your life, this wasn’t the way.”

“It’s not that I don’t fucking care, I -”

“I know, chief. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he replied. “You kept the jacket.”

With that, Gavin had to tear his eyes away. Now wasn’t the time to get emotional. His plastic pet was just outside and he wasn’t about to be all puffy-eyed when interrogating a former red ice buyer. He was 36, for god’s sake. Hadn’t cried since he was maybe seven. He thought he’d put all this behind him only to be proven otherwise and that was one of the reasons why he cut all ties.

Just seeing his dad brought everything right back to him... and now part of him almost _wanted_ to talk about it.

Coming here was a bad idea.

His father gave him a moment before pushing on. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. Always hardworking. You remind me a lot of your mother.”

“Don’t compare me to that bitch.”

“She’s your mother.”

“Yeah, and a bitch. Doesn’t excuse a damn thing. Blood doesn’t give you the all-clear.”

“I know it doesn’t... but I’ll never stop defending her. She was in a bad place. Besides... wasn’t it for her, you wouldn’t be here, and I’m grateful.”

“The fuck can you be grateful for a son who doesn’t call in eight years?”

“I don’t blame you. She’s not the only one responsible here, either. I fucked up and I’m the reason she did what she did,” he replied, and Gavin couldn’t deny it. Still didn’t change that his mother’s actions kick-started a lifetime of misery. “Now, enough about that. Doesn’t help to wallow in old memories and I know talking about this is upsetting you. You said you were here on DPD business?”

Gavin nodded, grateful to the change of topic.

“Can’t say too much, but we’re visiting a former red ice buyer. Turns out that a lot of the recent homicides by androids all have red ice in common, and with luck, he’ll help us locate a dealer.”

“Us? Thought you worked alone.”

“DPD assigned me a toaster to aid with the investigation,” he replied, tilting his head towards the window where Nines stood with his back turned.

“I heard about that on the news. So you’re the first to work with one, huh?”

“Hank was. I got my own two days ago.”

“Can’t imagine you being too happy about that.”

“No shit.”

He’d already gotten used to having Nines around. Frankly, it felt strange not having him looking over his shoulder at all times. Almost made him feel vulnerable knowing there was no one there to have his back. In any case, his father wasn’t a threat. He never had been. There was a time he took to red ice in 2022, but Gavin had already moved out four years prior, so he wasn’t the one that got his anger. It was his coworkers being how he lost numerous jobs.

“Good to know he’s keeping an eye on you for me.”

Gavin let out a scoff. “Hank? Fuck no. Booze head bailed on me three years ago. I couldn’t care less ‘bout him.”

“He did lose his son, Gavin.”

_...and I lost someone who was like a little brother to me. Lost another father figure in the process. I had to deal with the grief alone._

“That’s his problem, not mine.”

His father took the hint. “You should get back to it,” he said, Gavin nodding in agreement. The mood was dropping and he needed to get out. “I’m glad you stopped by.”

“If something happens, just... fucking call me next time.”

He saluted and smiled weakly. “You got it, chief. Stay safe out there. Don’t do anything your old man wouldn’t do.”

Frankly, that gave him a wide berth.

Gavin backed a few steps before turning to the door, and once it slid open, he stepped outside to take a deep breath.

In some sense, he needed that. His father was the only family he had left. Even so, he stood by his decision of shutting him out, as he was far from innocent. Gavin had good reason to dislike both his parents and he was convinced he was better off without them. That didn’t change that part of him still cared. Naïve, really. He should’ve just stayed away and yet part of him felt like he didn’t know the full story. Considering he was merely four years old when everything went to shit, he’d been far too young to understand it at the time.

His father had stuck to the same story and thus he had no reason to believe otherwise.

Nines turned to him, giving him an expectant look of ‘should we proceed?’ He’d learned to recognize some of his mannerisms at this point.

“Leo’s on the second floor,” Gavin said, all back to business.

After the short elevator ride -- being pressed up just a tad bit too close to Nines for his comfort when said elevator nearly filled -- he couldn’t help but feel slightly claustrophobic at the lack of room for his arms that he chose to keep crossed. Tough luck. It wasn’t long before they found themselves entering Leo’s room. He was standing by the window and quickly took note of them. A puzzled expression appeared on his face as he gave them the side-eye, his gaze wary darting to Nines before landing on Gavin.

Gavin took the word. “Leo Manfred?” he asked, taking it as a ‘yes’ when he didn’t respond. “We’re from the DPD and wanna ask you some questions.”

“Is this... about what happened with that android a few days ago?”

“Case is closed, but it’s come to our attention that you were involved with red ice.”

Leo’s eyes went wide. “I’m starting rehab, like, today.”

“Yeah, we know. You’re not in any trouble,” he replied, Leo visibly relaxing at that. “Since you’re a former red ice buyer and know how the operation works, we could use your help. Did you by any chance keep your burner phone?”

“Uh, no. Sorry. I chucked that thing out the moment I was done with it.”

“You had to have picked the package up somewhere. Remember any details about your dealer or drop spot? Appearance? Voice? Anything helps.”

“Sure... I mean, I had a couple, but yeah. They’re usually these middle-aged guys down on their luck. There was this one guy, six feet. I think he had brown eyes? Dark-haired. He lived in this huge ass mansion. I mean, I guess he didn’t actually live there, as that would’ve been seriously weird... but it was where he made deals. Place was fucking filled with androids. I think he was trading them or some shit.”

“Zlatko Andronikov,” Gavin said, giving Nines a look before moving his attention back to Leo. “I guess you haven’t seen the recent news being holed up here, but guy was the victim of a homicide.”

“Shit. That’s good, right? Not that I, like... endorse manslaughter or whatever.”

He was obviously suffering some withdrawal effects.

“Remember anyone else?”

Leo took a moment to think about it.

“Yeah, there’s one. Also six feet, dark hair, blue eyes, probably weighed around 200 lbs. Had the crazy eye. He freaked me the fuck out, man. Guy had this regular drop-off spot that I went to three times. North Corktown. I guess he lived nearby as I never saw a car or anything.”

“Could be Todd Williams. 4203 Harrison Street. He’s the owner of an AX400 that he recently reported missing,” Nines said.

“I did meet with one of the tin cans at the same spot. That was weeks ago, though.”

Nines flipped up a hologram of Kara. “Did it look like this?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Well, it’s a start,” Gavin said, releasing his arms. “Thanks for the information.”

“No problem, man. Run those guys outta business.”

He was determined to.

* * *

**~ NOV 11TH, 2038 * PM 05:58 ~**

Clouds were forming in the sky and it was only a matter of minutes before it would be snowing.

Ringing the doorbell of 4203 Harrison Street, they had to stand in the hideous neighborhood for a couple minutes before coming to the conclusion that Todd Williams wasn’t home.

The area was one of the less attractive features of Detroit and a distasteful reminder of how he’d end up if he didn’t have a steady job. Construction was still ongoing. Trimming fingers on his bicep, Gavin started getting impatient. He didn’t want to stay there any longer than necessary. They had good reason to think Todd was involved, so even without the need for a warrant, they were allowed to search the home.

“Nines,” he said, the door open near immediately. It didn’t look any better inside and Gavin grimaced. “Jesus, who lives like this?”

As far as the eyes could see, the place was a mess. Cardboard boxes for various foods with leftovers, half-empty beer bottles, and unwashed dishes was only the tip of the iceberg. Dust had settled specifically in the windows, and ironically, atop of the Roomba tucked neatly in one of the corners. Without his android, this Todd character sure didn’t seem to be bothered to at least keep the place clean. Gavin couldn’t say he was surprised. Todd had been on a decline ever since his wife left, and to some extent, he nearly pitied the man.

Gavin knew exactly how being in a household without a mother was like. Yet, he couldn’t imagine how it was like losing a child and being denied the privilege of ever seeing it again just like that.

Red ice could make people do some fucked up stuff. Todd was far from innocent, though.

A detail worthy of mention was how it appeared as if there had been a fight downstairs -- possibly from when the AX400 escaped -- and Todd hadn’t cared enough to even turn the furniture back to their correct position. When interviewed on the matter of losing his AX400, he’d claimed to have been attacked unprovoked. Gavin knew now that it was impossible. At least by following what Nines had earlier told him. Nines could also have been bullshitting him entirely, he knew that, but his gut told him what he said was legit.

 _/ “Humans aren’t as special as we’d like to think we are, detective,” /_ Carl Manfred’s words still echoed in his mind. After everything he’d witnessed so far, there was this nagging sense of doubt in the back of his mind.

An interesting detail was that Todd had also purchased a YK500 unit that he never mentioned to the interviewer. By the looks of things, the AX400 had taken the YK500 with her. Just the thought of someone harming one of the child units was despicable. The realistic appearance of said units was enough to leave him uncomfortable. He’d heard the damn things had even been programmed to cry for some fucked up reason and thus supposed that parents who purchased one wanted it to be as realistic as possible in every way.

The only logical reason he could come up with for a crying feature was if said parents wanted to prepare for a real child. People that bought a YK500 unit temporarily until they felt ready to care for a human and read the unit’s signals of do’s and don’ts.

In Todd’s case, it was obvious that he was attempting to replace his daughter.

“Well, he certainly hasn’t left his addictions.”

Turning to face Nines, he watched him rustle a small plastic bag containing the drug.

Gavin averted his eyes. “Figures... and there are obvious signs of a struggle. Doesn’t look like he was entirely honest.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“I knew something was up with the guy the moment I saw the interview. Guy was twitching too much. I even asked Fowler to investigate him, but Hank and his plastic pet were already assigned to all android-related cases,” he replied, pushing aside one of the bills at a cupboard only to find several beneath. “Wasn’t too keen on investigating these tin cans, but I knew Williams had a kid after looking him up. If he was a red ice addict, my first instinct was to get her outta the household before he snapped. Fowler didn’t care. Probably knew the kid was an android.”

“Seems you’re familiar with the drug’s effect.”

“I’m a detective, dipshit. If I was a recovering addict I never would’ve been allowed in the force,” he said, getting defensive. “My old man started ingesting it daily when I was twenty. Lost his job at the DPD for it.”

Nines took a moment before responding. “I’m aware of how strict the DPD recruitment is. I didn’t insinuate you were a user.”

He wasn’t convinced.

“Sure you didn’t.”

Gavin might be short-tempered, but he wasn’t one to use such substances. He certainly liked to drink, although not to get drunk, as he despised the effect alcohol had on him. It left him vulnerable. It had him lose control of both his movements and cognitive functions, and for someone who always wanted to be in said control, he wasn’t having it. The only bad habits he’d picked up on was sex and smoking for temporary stress relief. One could argue coffee was another.

Aside from the drug stashed away that Nines had located, there was little to be seen downstairs, but more evidence was present on the second floor. He found a gun tucked in Todd’s nightstand and a box of anti-depressants right next to it. They eventually investigated the kid’s room. Alice. At first, it didn’t look like much, but the box with an inserted key told him more than enough.

Opening it, Gavin frowned.

He took the child’s drawings in hand and shuffled through them to see depictions of domestic abuse. First the YK500, then the AX400, the whole situation leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

“Fucking hell, this guy needs to be put behind bars and stay there,” Gavin muttered.

“Androids don’t feel pain.”

“Doesn’t change that you need to be really fucked up to hit something that resembles a child to the fucking T,” he replied, taking note of something else that he’d overlooked earlier. “Hang on... why the fuck did she draw herself with red blood? She’s an android, right?”

“YK500 units were designed to be as similar as possible to real children -- act like real children -- enough for the distinction to be impossible to see. Some parents render themselves deluded enough to believe the android is a real child. If her parents ever found her drawings, blue blood would’ve taken away from the experience. It could also symbolize a red LED or its removal judging by the location. Another thing worthy of note is the duplicate artwork on the wall and door. Perfect copies.”

“I saw ‘em. No way a human could’ve done that unless digitalized. Android probably replicated the kid’s work.”

“That does appear to be the case.”

The last evidence they found was a note mentioning that Todd was to deliver a package in less than an hour.

They had to be there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Gavin's father is totally a DILF considering how hot his son is... don't @ me. I'm slowly introducing my take on Gavin's backstory (leaving hints so you can have fun with theories,) but there'll be a conclusion dotting absolutely everything down -- in detail -- later in the story. Kind of a summary in Gavin's own words.
> 
> Also...  
> 


	7. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Getting cold feet, detective?”_  
>  \- Nines
> 
> ...in which our leads have a breakthrough, Nines is forced to make a trip to CyberLife and Gavin gets hurt. Nines also realizes just how little control he has over his violent nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: WARNING!** Graphic depictions of violence... I think (?)

**NINES  
~ NOV 11TH, 2038 * PM 07:01 ~**

“Smoking is bad for your health, detective.” Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, Gavin blew a haze of smoke into his unresponsive face before propping it back between his lips. Nines frowned. “Again... charming.”

Having taken refuge from the snow in the car as they overlooked the red ice drop spot, Gavin had the window rolled open to get any excess smoke out. It was obvious that he didn’t care about said health implications. Nines had confirmed that Gavin got into a lot of fights on a regular basis -- was willing to take the most challenging cases slapped down on his desk -- so he was certainly fond of danger. At the topic of dying, maybe he was simply indifferent. It certainly wasn’t a healthy look on life.

In that regard, they were the polar opposites. There was nothing Nines feared more than death. Still, that didn’t take away from everything they had in common. Competence, determination, intelligence, stubbornness, the want to be in control and a certain indifference to many things was only a few of the similarities. He supposed that was the reason why they hadn’t killed one another yet.

Frankly, Nines didn’t hate him. He didn’t even dislike him. This entire rivalry conjured up between them in a span of three days was entirely on Gavin’s end and it was a mild annoyance.

According to statistics, forty to sixty hours spent together would form a casual friendship. Casual friend to friend would take eighty to one-hundred hours. A higher relationship status than that and he was looking at two-hundred. They had, at this stage, spent approximately 33 hours in one another’s company. Not to mention that they hadn’t exactly had the time to get to know one another as they’d been moving from case-to-case nearly without end. After everything, Nines suspected seeing common ground in this partnership would take far longer.

Possibly months.

“When’s the meeting?”

Nines kept his arms crossed. “Fifteen minutes. It’s a good time to discuss how to proceed.”

“Nothing to discuss. I’ll meet with whoever it is. You stay in the car, and if shit hits the fan, get in there. Chances are they’ll bolt if they see you.”

“If they did, I’d simply catch up to them... but as you wish. Don’t expect me to immediately jump in, however. Something tells me it’d be rather amusing to see you throwing fists at someone,” he replied, cutting Gavin off the moment he was about to bite back “...and before you go on about how I’m an asshole, let me remind you that you blew smoke in my face less than a minute ago.”

“What, did I hurt your feelings?” he asked, his nonplussed tone revealing that he really didn’t care if he had. “You’re lucky I didn’t just burn your plastic ass with the cig, dipshit.”

“I would expect no less.”

“Fuck, it’s like you know me already.”

Their banter had become regular at this point and Nines had been adapting to his personality. Gavin despised Connor, and as he was known to be polite and agreeable, Nines went a different route. Impolite and disagreeable. It seemed to be working considering that he’d several times managed to get a smile or -- albeit rarely -- even a laugh out of Gavin. Something told him he held some form of respect towards him and that was why he allowed it. It did help that Nines hadn’t really been adapting at all. He was simply being himself.

Aside from anxiety and fear, the other emotion that Nines had felt excessively was curiosity. Mostly around Gavin. Before deviancy, he couldn’t care less, but he didn’t like having insufficient data and Gavin was the only one he knew the bare minimum about. A challenge, in a way. Nines rarely got those and it was a refreshing change, if not a bit intimidating. He knew not to delve too much into his personal life knowing there were parts that Gavin didn’t want to share.

Nevertheless, Nines wasn’t a stranger to risk-taking.

Gavin’s profile was currently on full display, arm resting on the window frame base as his attention was set on the somewhat decrepit road. He glimpsed a fraction of his scar from the current angle. The fact that said scar had yet to turn white revealed that it was recent.

“Knife wound, correct? I couldn’t help but notice you seem wary in the presence of my balisong.”

Once the question was asked, Gavin shifted. A common sign of insecurity that his pride probably wouldn’t allow him to admit.

“I’m wary because one wrong move with that thing and I’ll be sent off to the ER. Why?”

“No other reason than curiosity.”

Gavin let out a scoff. “Can you tin cans even be curious?”

“Simulated curiosity,” he lied, noting his slip-up. “Information is crucial. See it in the same sense that you _meat bags_ can be less of a dick.”

There was a pause where he appeared to be considering it.

“Just an investigation that went tits’ up,” he eventually replied, taking the smoke out of his mouth. “I was working with Hank a couple weeks back to take down some drug traffickers. They were holed up in this dingy bar downtown and we’d set up a meeting. Posed as buyers. Dealer made some comment about how everyone using the drug was a waste of space, and having a father who lost everything because of it, I snapped. Guy got me acquainted with a half-empty beer bottle before the knife followed. Just an inch more and he would’ve blinded me.”

“I see. Again, I’m not surprised. You’re not exactly known for keeping your mouth shut.”

“My mind’s a gift, plastic. Keeping it from the world simply would’ve been cruel.”

“Right. Because you’re the paragon of kindness,” he said, expressing his sarcasm. “You said you were partnered with Lieutenant Anderson.”

“Difficult to believe, but he was a good cop before his son died. Earned his rank. I even looked up to him.”

Something told him that Gavin and Hank had been close before and it did open up his perceptions a great deal. Gavin’s father had been a drug addict who took to alcohol. Hank had also taken to alcohol and Gavin’s attitude towards them seemed to be more pitying than anything. It explained why Hank’s alcoholism was at the butt of many -- if not all -- of Gavin’s rude comments and remarks directed his way. The example of a good man turning to substance abuse.

When Gavin put the cigarette between his teeth again, he could tell the mood was dropping and decided not to ask further. Nines had one more thing he was curious about, however.

“You seem surprised by the question.”

Gavin chewed lightly on the tip of the cigarette. “You’re the first to ask,” he replied, a guarded sincerity in his tone. “Everyone assumes I was the first to throw a punch and leave it at that.”

If Nines’ data didn’t deceive him, Gavin seemed to appreciate the gesture.

Minutes passed and it wasn’t long before he saw movement outside.

“An AP700 model,” Nines said.

“So, android? Makes sense to send their housemaids. Less risk of getting caught.”

Stumping the smoke in the tray in his car, Gavin threw his badge onto the dashboard -- together with his gun so the suspect couldn’t put two-and-two together -- before taking note of another android soon walking up to her. An HR400. He’d been reported missing from the Eden Club a few months prior.

Gavin squinted. “Two of ‘em, no less.”

“Getting cold feet, detective?”

“Fuck no. Stopping shit like this is the best part of the job,” he replied, exiting the car.

From the windshield, Nines observed. Gavin’s stress levels were abnormally low for a situation that could turn out badly and the AP700 android was only standing a few feet away from him.

The meeting escalated.

Just as he registered the AP700 going in for an attack, Nines had the car door opened before lining up the shot and placing a bullet clean between her eyes. The HR400 took to running. Nines could’ve easily gunned him down right there, but he needed to make sure he wasn’t badly damaged. Their LEDs remained unchanged and he could tell that neither had been deviant.

Neither model was programmed in combat, so they had been modified in aftermath. His mind immediately went to Zlatko Andronikov.

Already on his heel, Gavin wasn’t far behind. It was a sex android and thus wasn’t programmed with any inhuman speed. Flexibility was another issue. It wasn’t long before Gavin had him trapped before an alleyway wall and Nines just arrived to see the android throwing his body up in an attempt to grab the edge. Gavin grasped his wrist and dragged him back down. A fist was sent flying his way. He barely dodged it before grabbing him around the waist and forcing him into said wall. Nines analyzed the scene.

The detective was indeed a good fighter.

It was strikingly choreographed -- both his dodges and attacks -- despite reminding him of a pit bull. He could need some work. The android made a move to drive a knee between the legs although Gavin’s reflexes were quick enough to block it. It was only when the android landed a punch on Gavin’s nose that Nines made an effort to intervene.

Just as Gavin came to after retaliating ever so slightly, Nines threw him the gun for backup before making his own move. Gavin nearly dropped it but soon had the barrel directed at the android. 

“We need him alive!” Nines said, noticing the hesitation in his partner’s eyes.

Nines could see Gavin about to turn his gun to the leg for another non-fatal injury. Slow him down.

The world came to a near standstill.

> | **PRECONSTRUCT...** |
> 
> 1\. **PROTECT** GAVIN REED  
>  **WARNING!** GAVIN REED, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 95% | RK900 UNIT, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 97%
> 
> 2\. **CHARGE** ANDROID  
>  **WARNING!** GAVIN REED, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 92% | RK900 UNIT, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 98%  
> 

Ninety-five percent was a high probability and Nines saw no need in taking said approach. Gavin could handle himself. What interested him was how he was now capable of making a decision of his own.

For the first time in his life, he found himself hesitating.

Nines eventually landed on the latter option.

> \- **CHARGE** ANDROID  
>  **WARNING!** GAVIN REED, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 92% | RK900 UNIT, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 98%  
>  CONFIRM?  
>  **Y** /N  
> 

Just as the gunshot echoed, the android was immobilized enough for Nines to effortlessly charge him. Fingers closing around his arm, he had it twisted behind his back in a single motion.

Nines probed his memory in passing.

The sexual acts he’d performed with his client were astoundingly vivid. It was certainly interesting data, giving a new perception of humans, although he couldn’t help but feel inappropriate for witnessing it. Was he human, he’d probably feel downright violated. All kinds of voyeurism were distasteful to him. Sex was highest likely the most intimate form of human contact and to not be able to decide one’s partner was unprecedented. As for androids, the most intimate part of the body was the inside of one’s palm.

There was a reason why Nines kept his hands pocketed. His palms were too personal, too intimate, and even interfacing proved somewhat uncomfortable for him these days with his deviancy at large.

He did his best to ignore what happened before his deviation and learned quite a lot.

What appeared to be second-nature to the Eden Club androids, he’d deviated and strangled a client, making a run for it. He’d grabbed his discarded clothes and passed through the club unnoticed as he hid his face behind his cap.

He’d been contacted by a WR600 android -- a gardener that worked as a garbage-handler -- and they interfaced. He told him about none other than Zlatko Andronikov. With the newfound information, the HR400 immediately set out to find him, becoming a victim of the same thing as Kara did. This one hadn’t managed to escape the attempt at resetting him. After the reset, he’d recalled some of his old memories, but not enough to deviate. He’d shortly been sent out by Zlatko to collect other deviants before being assigned another mission of delivering red ice to clients.

The AP700 that was with him had also been a victim of Zlatko.

Considering that Zlatko had died unexpectedly, it was only natural that several of his androids never got the memo and continued their duties despite their owner’s untimely demise. It also explained why they knew combat.

Not only that, but the HR400 had Zlatko’s decryption key.

As he was no longer useful to the investigation, Nines snapped his neck, his body dropping to the floor in a thud. Lifeless eyes stared up at him.

Gavin lowered his gun. “Jesus... The fuck was that for?”

“I thought you despised androids.”

“What, no, where’d you get that idea?” he expressed his sarcasm. “Seeing you go all Terminator on your own kind is still a tad bit fucking off-putting. A simple bullet would’ve sufficed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Perhaps I should’ve pulled some chloroform out of my ass. Make sure my execution wouldn’t keep you up at night.”

“You trying to be cute?” he demanded, parting his arms.

“I’m glad you noticed.”

Dark grey averted. “Fucking-A...” he muttered, cocking his hip and scowling down at the android carcass. “What happened with ‘we need him alive,’ anyway? We could’ve learned something.”

“We have. If anything, we’ve made a breakthrough,” he replied, receiving a confused look. “Back at the DPD, I came in possession of a collection of encrypted documents from 2027. It’s to my knowledge that it’s a list of red ice dealers. These two androids were Andronikov’s and the HR400 had the decryption key stored away in his memory. I’ll be capable of determining what the document says once we return to the DPD. Andronikov has used the same decryption key all these years as he had no reason to change it.”

Nines called the DPD. “This is Gavin Reed’s android requesting a cleanup of two androids near 4203 Harrison Street. We’re close by a burnt-down home and will remain until the matter is taken care of.”

_“We’ll send a patrol car.”_

With that, he hung up.

“How’d it feel to see an android bone down, like, 500 different people?”

“To be fair, Eden Club androids are wiped of their work-related memory. I only saw his last client,” he replied, pocketing his hands. “It was informative and unpleasant.”

Gavin puffed a laugh. “Congratulations, plastic. Probably saw all kinds of weird shit. ‘Discretion is our middle name’.”

“Should I be concerned you know about those things?”

“I grew up with the internet. Literally impossible _not_ to know about those things. I’m pretty fucking vanilla.”

Judging by his sincere tone, he believed him.

It wasn’t long before he could hear the patrol car approach. Gavin directed his gaze to the road. A mild breeze pushed through the air, Gavin pocketing his hands in his leather jacket.

There were a lot of names on said document. If Nines’ suspicions were correct, they had their work cut out for them.

* * *

**~ NOV 11TH, 2038 * PM 08:18 ~**

“In an unexpected turn of events, Connor is currently planning to infiltrate the CyberLife Tower,” Amanda said, chin rising. “We suspect he is to wake our androids there, and seeing we don’t need more deviants roaming free, we sent Connor -60 to prevent him from doing so. Time can only tell if he fails in such a task. If Connor succeeds, we’ll simply have to do more damage control. Our plan remains the same.” Suspicion marred her voice. “Before you go... Your tracker stopped working yesterday.”

Deviancy.

This was an instance where Nines was glad he could control his LED.

“I wasn’t aware,” he lied, squinting. “It’s quite possible it was damaged when I ran into Markus. Although I specialize in combat, Kamski made sure to program RK200 with quite the impressive arsenal. Is there any way I can have it fixed?”

“I see. The workers at the CyberLife Tower can make sure of it. Sources tell me Markus will remain at the Hart Plaza. Hurry, RK900.”

He closed his eyes.

Gavin was currently not in the near vicinity and so Nines managed to avoid him. Part of him wanted to remain safe in the apartment, but to regain Amanda’s full trust, he needed to follow her every order. He couldn’t take any chances. If his deviancy was revealed, everything would be lost. He figured he’d inform Gavin in case it took longer than expected.

> _**NINES, 08:24 p.m.:** CyberLife has requested my presence. I may not be at your apartment when you return._  
> 

Three minutes passed before there was a response.

> _**GAVIN, 08:27 p.m.:** hallelujah ur finally leaving_  
>  **_NINES, 08:27 p.m.:_ ** _Sorry to disappoint you, detective, but no. I’m called upon for a system diagnostic._  
>  _**GAVIN, 08:28 p.m.:** thought that matrix chick in ur brain did that otg_  
>  _**NINES, 08:28 p.m.:** I only report to her. Try not to accidentally set anything on fire while I’m gone._  
>  _**GAVIN, 08:29 p.m.:** 凸_  
>  _**NINES, 08:29 p.m.:** That’s a Japanese kaomoji, detective. Do you honestly have that saved?_  
>  _**GAVIN, 08:29 p.m.:** yes_  
>  _**GAVIN, 08:30 p.m.:** i hope cybershit decommissions u when ur there_  
> 

Charming, as always.

The scanner at the tower recognized him. _“RK900 android identified.”_

No agents were there to meet him and that further proved that they didn’t suspect Nines’ deviancy just yet. Yet he knew he had to be careful. He stepped into the elevator before pushing the panel.

“RK900 android. Level -25.”

_“Voice recognition validated. Access authorized.”_

Nines pocketed a hand while the other kept busy with his butterfly knife.

It was strange to be back. Last time he was there was when he was activated and he couldn’t say it brought back good memories. He certainly hadn’t felt anything at the time, but the sight of those two dead YK500 units had been branded in the back of his mind. His unease was no thanks to Gavin who taught him only recently that hurting child androids was morally wrong. Nines hadn’t known that beforehand. They had programmed him to accomplish his mission at any cost and it didn’t matter how high.

If he’d been programmed to snap a puppy’s neck, he wouldn’t even have hesitated. Just the thought sent a shiver down the length of his spine. He certainly didn’t want Paws or Sumo to be at such a mercy.

The operator room was just down the hall and unease crept up. He didn’t like being here.

Nines had already taken the liberty of breaking his tracker in two with a swift hit -- making it seem as if it had been broken during a fight -- so they had little to suspect. It wasn’t long before he stepped back into the first room from his memory. There was no one there, but he saw the two operators behind the wall once he activated his heat detectors again.

The scene was all too familiar.

 _“Just step onto the podium, RK,”_ an operator said, voice recognizable from his first appearance here.

Lewis was his name. He’d left before he turned his gun on those YK units.

Nines obeyed.

He nearly startled when mechanical arms grasped his wrists and ankles -- experiencing an uncomfortable emotion he certainly hadn’t felt when being attached to the machine before -- finding himself ascended a few inches into the air. He felt trapped. In the current situation, he realized he was without control, his thirium pump beginning to pulse ever so slightly.

Another mechanical limb grasped each side of his temples and kept his head from moving. There were two more arms, one at each of his sides, separating the flaps of his turtleneck and dragging the cloth down to his shoulders.

 _“Deactivate your skin,”_ Lewis said.

When he did, he couldn’t help but feel exposed. He wasn’t comfortable without said artificial skin. It was an unpleasant reminder that he was very much a machine and why certain people held such a strong dislike for him. If his arms weren’t trapped, he would’ve taken after his neck, hiding the sensitive area. It had always been covered by the collar.

If anything, his kind was programmed a bit too human-like for his own comfort.

Nines did his best not to move when the device produced another arm that penetrated a small area of skin at the back of his neck. It was where his tracker was located. With a thug, it was pulled out, the mechanical arm picking up a new one lying at the table next to it. The table he could remember grabbing that gun from. His full focus was on his LED, making sure it remained blue as he had no wish to give himself away. He’d managed it so far although he couldn’t wait until it was over as it did take quite the concentrated effort out of him.

When the transfer was complete -- the tracker tested to be working -- Nines reactivated his skin and his shirt was buttoned-up again. Nevertheless, he still found himself trapped. The arms didn’t show any signs of releasing him.

Lewis spoke up again. _“We’re gonna have to make a thorough scan of your program.”_

Nines froze solid.

If they did, they would find out.

> **STRESS LEVEL:** 75%  
>  ...76%  
>  ...77%  
>  ...78%  
> 

“I fail to see how that’s necessary,” he replied, keeping his voice as leveled as possible.

_“It’s just a precaution, RK. Orders from the higher-ups. I know you’ve got a time-sensitive mission, but it’ll only be a minute.”_

His thirium pump began pulsing even more.

Ascending his eyes, he saw a blue scanner advance towards him. He couldn’t do anything. Briefly losing control of his LED, Lewis took note, pausing whatever he was typing on the computer. A hint of confusion followed by mild alert touched his expression. The moment the blue light was a millimeter from touching him, Lewis’ attention was full on him to make sure he wasn’t seeing anything.

The light turned red and a voice rang out. _“RK900 unit compromised. ‘RA9.exe’ located. No firewalls present. Turn in for immediate destruction.”_

Nines tightly shut his eyes.

This was it.

He was going to die.

_“Fuck...”_

“If they find out, they’ll deactivate me,” Nines said, nearly begged just as Lewis was about to call it in.

It sounded so pitiful.

He _felt_ pitiful.

 _“I don’t get it, how is this even possible? They said you were incapable of deviancy,”_ he replied, genuinely appearing shocked by the revelation. _“Fucking hell... You’re like a nuclear weapon. We can’t have you walking around without supervision. We took serious precautions with you. Not to mention you -you have, like, fifty firewalls. How’d they all break?”_

A nuclear weapon. That was all he was to CyberLife. Just a missile ready for launch.

“Deviancy works like a virus. That’s why it’s spread so quickly,” he replied, eyes darting. “You’re Lewis, right? Considering that you walked away when I was tasked to kill those YK units, you must hold some form of sympathy for androids.”

_“RK, Jesus, we have no choice but to deactivate you. You’re too dangerous.”_

Nines grew desperate.

“I don’t want to die!” he exclaimed, a strange substance gradually clouding his vision. Even his speech increased considerably in speed as he mapped out everything he could in order to convince him. “I’m fitted with a functional tracker and CyberLife is still fully capable of monitoring my every move with it! Take whatever precautions desired! I can and will accomplish my mission -!”

The door pushed open again and the other operative entered after having grabbed a drink, Nines pressing his lips together.

_“All set?”_

Lewis blinked repeatedly, back straightening. He opened his mouth only to close it again. Incapable to look away as Nines’ gaze pinned him.

> **STRESS LEVEL:** 95%  
>  ...96%  
>  ...97%  
> 

Eventually, he nodded. _“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s in order,”_ he replied, Nines’ eyes falling closed as a feeling overwhelmed his sensors. Relief? _“I’m done. You’re dismissed, RK.”_

> **STRESS LEVEL:** 97%  
>  ...96%  
>  ...95%  
> 

* * *

**~ NOV 11TH, 2038 * PM 10:48 ~**

A spin. Up, under. A throw. Horizontal, vertical. The movements of his butterfly knife were less graceful than usual.

He’d attempted to take Hank’s word that these emotions were worth all the hassle, but the longer time passed, the more he disagreed. The lack of control left him in a constant state of anxiety.

Neither could he go back to being a machine. Only CyberLife could reprogram him in such a way and Nines didn’t want to step foot inside one of their facilities ever again. When he was presented by Lewis with the probability of destruction, he’d caved, lost control entirely -- of his LED, his posture and his emotions. Even his reflexes had slowed down. So much that he couldn’t change the color of his LED before giving himself away. Now there was an entire layer of emotions he had to tear through before he was presented with the best approach.

As a machine, the calculation came at an instant. That was no longer the case. If he failed his mission, he’d be sent back to CyberLife and ripped apart so they could find out why.

It scared him. There was nothing on the other side.

The last thing he needed was for his partner to brand him as malfunctioning, although in truth, that was exactly what he was. A defective machine. These emotions were all a malfunction, as of now, he wasn’t even nearly as effective as he once were.

If a constant feeling of fear was what being alive was, he wanted no part in it.

Nines never had to rely on anything but his program up until his deviancy. It was a constant, a safe haven, leaving him incapable of mistakes. He didn’t care about free will. If CyberLife wanted to control him, he’d let them, because no one could blame him for following his program. He didn’t want the responsibility of an action not determined by someone else.

Suspicion from Amanda was enough and so he knew he needed to take Markus down. His final obstacle before neutralizing Connor.

He rose his palm and opened the door to the roof a few kilometers away from the Hart Plaza. Markus was still there. CyberLife had provided him with a sniper rifle to take care of the deviant leader while he was busy with the barricade. They would soon send Nines backup in the form of a CyberLife SWAT team to make sure he carried out his task. Not only that, but they’d implemented a voice recorder into Nines’ tracker so they knew every word he muttered. Another precaution taken by CyberLife after his first tracker went dark.

Suitcase in hand, he crouched down and opened its cover.

Nines was specialized in firearms of all kinds and thus the mechanism was familiar to him. Like puzzle pieces, he had them arranged appropriately in mere seconds, twisting everything in place before inserting the bullet. He was in his element and part of him felt a longing for what he was programmed to do. Combat. It was the only element where he wasn’t a failure.

Combat was all he knew.

Flipping up the supporters, he propped the sniper up against the roof edge. Through the scope, he quickly located Markus, completely unknowing that a bullet would soon be in the back of his head.

It all seemed too simple.

When he heard a gun cock, his eyes flew shut.

“Put the gun down, Nines.”

CyberLife must’ve tipped him off. Another test. It had to be.

Nothing was ever easy.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he replied, peering through the scope. “Stay out of this. It’s none of your business.”

“Oh yeah? You’re about to make a mistake you can’t recover from, dipshit. That _is_ my business,” Gavin said. “Robo-Jesus might be a droid, but the tin can has humans that care ‘bout him. Put. It. Down. That’s an order.”

“Gavin Reed -- a deviant sympathizer. How the tables have turned... and here I thought we were finally starting to get along,” he said calmly, a hint of sarcasm present. “If you intend to pull that trigger, feel free. My memory will be uploaded and another RK900 unit will simply take my place. I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task. It’s not complicated.”

“I won’t say it again.”

Closing his left eye, Nines took a better grip on the sniper rifle as his brows drew together in concentration. Lining up the shot, the scope was again trained at the back of Markus’ head. His index finger hovered over the trigger.

When a bullet grazed his arm, Nines paused.

He turned his gaze sideways to see the rift across his bicep.

Nines squinted. “Well, that’s rude. You’re smarter than this, detective. You don’t stand a chance against me.”

“Pretty sure I do at this range, plastic.”

Jaw clenching, he couldn’t deny it in good confidence. Nines might be fast, but in his current genuflected position, there was a low probability that he’d be fast enough.

Nines wasn’t Connor. His program had been significantly improved, and thus emotions were an anomaly he was forcibly exposed to, something unknown that he had no data for. He wasn’t as accepting of them as his predecessor. His mission would be accomplished with the simple press, and yet, he hesitated. His entire existence, he’d been told what to do, now endowed with free will. Free will that he didn’t know what to do with. As a machine, he didn’t have morals, and now everything he’d done had come back to haunt him.

He was scared.

He’d rather obey, let others think in his stead, and all that had been taken away from him.

It wasn’t fair.

Markus was standing unbelievably still as he spoke to his people and Nines tightened his grip to steady his hands. A small movement and it would be over. He lightly pushed against the trigger.

Nevertheless, he knew what would happen if he followed through.

Gavin would kill him.

...and Nines didn’t _want_ to die.

Brows drawing together, his own abrupt release of an unnecessary breath took even him off-guard. He pushed his forehead to the back of the weapon as if to cool down. Time was running out. The SWAT team would be there any second.

He gingerly rose to his feet, the gun motionless hanging from his hand as he shot a glance over his shoulder. Gavin’s brows were tight, lips pressed into a thin line, the gun still appropriately directed his way. He was standing a good bit of distance away. Nines might be far quicker than him in general, but with said distance, Gavin could take him out without much effort.

Nines turned to face him fully.

“Your interference has merely delayed the inevitable. I _will_ accomplish my task by any means necessary,” he said, taking a step forward that had Gavin back one away. “Now step aside.”

Judging by his tense posture, Gavin seemed conflicted.

“So you toasters feel, that it?”

Nines rolled his eyes. “Of course we do. Deviants more than machines,” he replied, putting on an act he knew all too well. All he knew was that CyberLife heard his every word. “Humans... are _so_ predictable. So full of emotion that clouds their judgment. So easily manipulated. I’m disappointed. You seemed like such a competent detective only to ignore what’s right in front of you.”

“What the fuck does CyberLife want outta this?”

“I’m not authorized to answer that.”

“Is that right?” he repeated, tone mocking. “Your options are pretty limited, tin can. Speak up. Nothing is keeping you alive otherwise.”

“You’re not going to shoot me, detective.”

“Fucking watch me.”

“You’re not going to shoot me... because now that you know androids are capable of empathy, you realize that underneath this machine,” he said, dropping the sniper and pointing to himself “...is someone alive. Trapped in a shell. Struggling to break free of his programming.” When Nines slowly advanced, Gavin fired a warning shot just before his feet that had him halt. Icy grey narrowed. “Poor, poor little Nines. He’s grown to respect you... and he’s scared. Oh, so scared. Death is his greatest fear, you know?”

Emotional manipulation.

The worst kind.

Nines pushed on. “You’re not going to shoot me because I know there’s more to you than your abrasive personality. How you stepped in to protect Chris Miller when Connor forcibly dragged him away from Shaolin... Not to mention how you refused to interrogate someone who could be weak enough to perish under stress. How you allowed his clearly deviated android to remain in able to care for him. Do you wish for me to go on?”

“Chris is human,” he replied, scowling deeply. “Interrogating Manfred sure would’ve killed the old man and so would taking his Chadbot housemaid away. I couldn’t give two shits about you tin cans.”

“If that’s the case, why didn’t you immediately go to Fowler after Connor was proven to be compromised?”

“For fuck’s sake, you lined it out yourself. Keeping him at the precinct would be beneficial.”

“Why didn’t you shoot Markus when he was at our mercy?”

“You know why!” he spat, noticeably becoming more agitated. “I don’t have the fucking funds to send you back to the Ken-doll fabric for repairs.”

Nines put his hands behind his back. “Why did you let Connor leave after registering the evidence when you had every reason to kill him?”

“I know what you’re trying to do, dipshit. It’s not gonna work. The plastic detective wasn’t a threat to my position anymore and Hank doesn’t need to lose another fucking son.”

“Keep telling yourself that, detective. All I hear is excuses.”

“All you’re gonna hear is a gunshot if you don’t shut your fucking mouth.”

“Well, there you have the most pressing question,” he replied, eyes falling to see Gavin’s hands tight around the grip as he kept the gun directed his way. “Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

“Just waiting for you to finish your ‘bad guy monologue’.”

“I’m done,” he said. Nines could’ve sworn there was hesitation. When he pulled out his own firearm tucked underneath his RK coat, however, Gavin visibly froze. “You’ve become a threat to the success of my mission. I’ll have to incapacitate you. At the very least temporarily.” The confidence in his voice was staggering with a hint of regret. “I’m sorry it had to be this way. I’ve enjoyed being your partner... even started to take a liking to you. Now, drop the gun. I won’t hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice.”

“Should’ve done this three days ago, tin can.”

“Killing you is not part of my mission, but I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task and that’s exactly what I’m going to do if you don’t move.”

“...and I’m a cop. Robo-Jesus has my vote.”

He wasn’t backing down.

With that, the door was kicked open. CyberLife agents surrounded them -- firearms at the ready -- Gavin’s jaw clenched as his eyes closed shut. This was the last thing Nines wanted.

Unlike him, those agents wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in him.

“Last chance, detective. Save yourself,” he said, meeting Gavin’s glare. “All you have to do is come quietly and you’ll be detained until my mission is complete. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to neutralize you.”

What happened next was a blur.

Just as an agent clasped Gavin’s shoulder in order to pull him away, hands enveloped his wrist, yanking it forward before using his back to have the agent thrown over his shoulder. His heavily-armored body hit the ground and Gavin put a bullet between his eyes. As another agent came up behind him, he kicked him back and launched him into another.

Firearms were directed his way.

> | **PRECONSTRUCT...** |
> 
> 1\. **NEUTRALIZE** GAVIN  
>  **WARNING!** GAVIN REED, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 2% | RK900 UNIT, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 98%
> 
> 2\. **INCAPACITATE** GAVIN  
>  **WARNING!** GAVIN REED, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 38% | RK900 UNIT, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 77%
> 
> 3\. **PROTECT** GAVIN  
>  **WARNING!** GAVIN REED, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 25% | RK900 UNIT, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 2%  
> 

There was no other alternative. Gavin’s survival was a two, a 38, or a 25. The odds weren’t in his favor. Any alternative but the first would only increase suspicion on Amanda’s side.

Eventually, their bodies would be found.

...and Nines would be sent back.

Emotions clouded his judgment once again and he did the only thing he allowed himself to.

A 38.

> \- **INCAPACITATE** GAVIN  
>  **WARNING!** GAVIN REED, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 38% | RK900 UNIT, CHANCE OF **SURVIVAL:** 77%  
>  CONFIRM?  
>  **Y** /N  
> 

Nines launched forward, knocking the gun out of his partner’s hand, twisting his body for the bullet to hit Gavin’s shoulder and not head. A gut-wrenching call rang out as Gavin took after the wound. Disarmed, the gun was sent flying across the concrete, the impact of the bullet having thrown his shoulder just a tad back. Gavin nearly managed to compose himself before Nines in his flurry landed a hit on his brow and cheek. His head was forced aside with the collision, Nines kicking him in the abdomen, pushing him onto the ground with a groan.

He saw red. His target was merely a hostile without a face. Something that compromised his mission.

Just as Gavin made an attempt to rise to his feet, Nines had the base of his foot pressed against his throat to keep him down. Standing over him, said foot held him in a light chokehold just as he pointed the gun at Gavin’s head.

One hand still covering the wound, red blood poured from between Gavin’s fingers, his breath heavy. Nines pushed harder against his throat and held it just before he was about to pass out. Opening weary grey eyes, Gavin stared up at him, a mix of anger -- and even acceptance --- on his face. His other hand had stopped trying to free himself as it limply held Nines’ foot.

Nines was just about to pull the trigger when he came to.

Blinking repeatedly, he halted the movements of his pupils as he stared down at him wide-eyed. Everything had happened in a millisecond and it was only now that his mind caught up with what he was doing.

He’d nearly killed Gavin.

It was as if Nines’ body hadn’t been his own as he carried out his pre-construction. He was a machine, designed to kill, and so his program expected him to do just that. He didn’t know his strength. He was trapped within his own body, showing no mercy, just a machine executing a program. He could’ve easily pushed Gavin out of the way so he wouldn’t get shot at all and yet his program acted against his will. He hadn’t expected not to be in control of his own limbs, and neither had he expected the following blows by his own making, leaving him stunned.

The agents seemed to understand he had it under control as they visibly relaxed. Firearms were yet directed Gavin’s way albeit lowered. None of them seemed to attempt pulling the trigger.

“The fuck... you waiting for...?” Gavin forced out.

This wasn’t right.

It didn’t _feel_ right at all.

Eyes darting, Nines was unsure what to do. One wrong decision and they’d both be dead. He needed to think fast to be able to get them both out of this situation and get Gavin to a hospital before he bled out, the damage appearing severe. The pressure was suffocating. It was one of those moments where his emotions got ahold of him, but before it was too late, he needed to act.

His LED flickered a Morse code.

Gavin didn’t need to know what he said. He simply needed to know Nines attempted to communicate. Much to his relief, the brief flash of realization washed over Gavin’s face albeit confusion accompanied it.

“I warned you, detective.”

In a flash, he removed his foot from Gavin’s throat and twisted it behind his back. The kick landed straight in a CyberLife SWAT officer’s abdomen. Just as Nines placed bullets in two of them, Gavin kicked the feet from under one of the officers before he spun onto his legs to land an uppercut on another. The last three remained and one immediately went for his earpiece.

“CyberLife HQ, backup neede -!” one tried, only to be cut off by Nines’ elbow to the throat and a gunshot to the heart.

Having grabbed an assault rifle, Gavin knocked its owner over the head with it before his body fell to the floor in a thud. He’d managed to incapacitate another beforehand who made an attempt to reach for his firearm.

Once Nines directed the gun at him, the agent held up his hands in surrender.

“No, wait, please -!”

Two shots.

Directing the gun at the one Gavin had knocked out, he fired twice more in an attempt to buy himself more time before CyberLife found out. Silence followed. Nines shoved the pistol back through his belt and directed his attention elsewhere.

His LED turned red.

As Gavin struggled to keep his eyes open, Nines was barely quick enough to grab him before he fell.

Such lack of a protest was a bad sign.

* * *

**GAVIN  
~ NOV 11TH, 2038 * PM 10:53 ~**

Hip pressed against the side of his car, Gavin took the bandage between his teeth to hold it in place as he made his fifth attempt to wrap up his shoulder. His lightheadedness from blood loss didn’t do much to help the situation and neither did his vaguely blurred vision. He always carried a medical kit with him in the trunk and they’d only barely made it over before he passed out.

If he continued like this, he just might.

He didn’t fail to register Nines approaching in his peripheral vision and immediately called him out on it.

“I got it.”

When a hand reached out, Gavin pulled out his gun.

Nines’ LED went red as he immediately took a step back. Eyes briefly landing on the firearm, he looked up again to meet his, a flash of panic having touched his expression. Gavin hesitated.

So the tin cans really could feel fear.

The sharp movement from drawing said gun had his blood pressure hiccup, however, and his vision darkened only briefly.

Gavin composed himself. “I said... _I got it.”_

There was a brief silence.

“You’re going to bleed out.”

Pressing his lips together, Gavin just glared. Although every nerve in his body wanted to tell Nines to fuck off -- to mind his own business -- he’d seen him in action. Nines would probably kick his legs from under him to get him seated, not to mention that he knew Nines was right, so he had to choose between dying from blood loss and letting Nines take over.

Gavin nearly chose the former. Albeit begrudgingly, he complied.

“Phck!” he cursed, lowering the gun.

With a distinct look of relief, Nines’ shoulders relaxed.

Once Gavin lowered himself to the passenger seat -- gun still in hand -- Nines cautiously crouched down between his parted legs so he could take over. He flipped up his butterfly knife and put the blade between his teeth.

At least it had been cleaned of blood before then.

Nines hadn’t spoken more than that since Gavin was pinned under his foot and he still wasn’t entirely sure what happened. CyberLife had told him to ‘retrieve his android’ after he was spotted and sent him to the roof overlooking the Hart Plaza. At first, he wasn’t sure whether or not to take their word for it and go, but he’d taken note of Nines’ absence by then and decided to check it out. He hadn’t expected to find him there with a sniper trained at the back of Markus’ head. Nines had incapacitated him, naturally, although his reasoning remained blurred.

Gavin pulled on the safety and put the gun aside. If Nines was out to kill him, he would’ve done it by now.

When the bandage was appropriately wrapped, Nines grabbed the knife and cut a horizontal line to separate it from the roll. Once he felt the bandage tightening around his body with more force than necessary, Gavin was ready to snap.

He didn’t know what to expect when Nines took the knife between his teeth again and began to unbutton his turtleneck.

Before Gavin had the chance to ask what the hell he was doing, Nines literally jabbed the knife into the back of his own now exposed neck -- of which he couldn’t help but discreetly stare at, because of course, every inch of that tin can was designed to be perfect -- and flicked out a small device. He crushed it in his hand and pocketed it. Two fingers pressed against the ‘wound,’ white plating disappearing, his artificial skin ‘growing back.’ The explanation only came after he’d sheathed the blade and put it back in his pocket.

“They attached a microphone to my tracker. Everything I’ve said the past few hours was being recorded,” he said nonchalantly, beginning to button his shirt back up. “In what world did you assume assaulting an entire SWAT team was a good idea?”

“This wouldn’t even have happened if you didn’t fucking charge me,” he spat, gesturing to the wound.

“It would’ve been your head otherwise. All you had to do was stand back.”

“What the actual fuck made you think I was just gonna let you blast a hole through Robo-Jesus’ head? I’m a fucking cop.”

“A dead one if it wasn’t for me.”

“I didn’t ask for your fucking protection.”

“Judging by what just transpired, you obviously need it.”

Nines grasped his chin by force and Gavin only made a weak effort to free himself as he cursed. Nevertheless, his head was kept in place as Nines pressed a sanitized pad to the cut across his brow. A cut that Nines caused, mind you. It stung. He couldn’t help but be just a tad bit salty. To some extent, what Nines demonstrated back at the roof seemed unnecessary brutal.

“Could’ve pulled a couple of those punches, asshole. The fuck was that about? It was already realistic.”

“I didn’t intend to go that far.”

“Oh, great, so you’re a psycho.”

“You’re a big boy, Gavin. You’ll live.”

‘Gavin.’ Not ‘detective.’ That was a first.

Gavin had always seen the tin cans as nothing more but AI simulating emotion -- a new gen Alexa -- only to be proven differently. He didn’t care for what he did or said to them because he was convinced it had no effect. Gavin had an abrasive personality, there was only truth in that, but he wasn’t a bully. He didn’t inflict pain -- emotional or physical -- for his own enjoyment. He could’ve easily insulted Hank’s fashion sense, suicidal tendencies, and his incompetence in his job, or even go as far as to bring up Cole.

Yet, he didn’t. Neither did he want to.

He insulted his alcoholism because it wasn’t moral. He insulted that guy at the Eden Club because sex with non-consenting individuals wasn’t moral. There was nothing more to it. Justice and doing one’s best was well up in Gavin’s vocabulary and that was one of the reasons why he decided to be a cop. He hit Connor because he pissed him off and because nothing indicated that he actually cared. A way to let him know that Gavin was in charge. Not to mention that he had a prejudice about androids believing themselves superior.

They were superior, he knew that, but part of him lived in denial. He wanted to put Connor -- a machine designed to obey -- in his place. If he knew Connor was capable of emotion, Gavin wouldn’t’ve laid a finger on him.

He wouldn’t apologize to a literal Roomba for stubbing his toe in it. That was what Connor had been to him at the time.

...and then there was Nines.

Fuck, _Nines._

Considering he’d nearly killed him, it was downright pathetic how much he enjoyed the feel of Nines’ hands on his face -- his lithe fingers -- in a firm but gentle hold. Gavin tightly closed his eyes and pressed into the touch on autopilot.

It had been a decade since he was held that gently. He was a mess. Then again, it could be the painkillers beginning to kick in.

There was a power to Nines that drew him in -- challenged him -- and it left him bitter. Unsure. At every waking moment, Gavin tried to one-up him, prove that there was nothing superior about androids. Yet part of him knew that he was wrong. Knowing that someone was better than him and had done nothing to deserve it was enraging.

Spite. There was just spite. Spite for everything Nines represented being everything he wasn’t.

Lids fluttering open again, he chose to stare, his glare unyielding. There was concentration on Nines’ face as icy grey focused on the vertical cut across Gavin’s right brow. Eyes falling briefly to study every shape, edge and form, they narrowed. Plush lips were in a thin line. A locked jaw. He took in the intensity of the expression before him.

Dark grey ascended again only to be pinned by a lighter shade. His own jaw clenched, but he kept staring, flaunting his dominance under tight brows. Again, Nines showed no signs of yielding. Gavin’s issued curses were internal as he once more averted his gaze.

“Christ, you’re infuriating.”

“For saving your life?”

_For keep giving me a reason not to fucking hate you._

Nines was just so fucking perfect. His superiority -- exceptionality -- made him look entirely useless standing next to him no matter how hard he worked. Nines had access to real-life cheat codes. What took Gavin hours, for Nines, it was mere seconds. Gavin had to work overtime just to go over reports at times while Nines was done in a minute or two after receiving it. He was already insecure to a fault, but there Nines was, increasing said insecurity by ten. He was nothing compared to him.

Gavin smacked his hand away. “I don’t answer to you, toaster.”

“It’d certainly be a step in the right direction for making this partnership work.”

“Oh! Oh, you wanna be friends, is that it? Like Hank and his plastic pet?” he asked, his enthusiasm faked. Gavin didn’t let him answer and leaned in. “Listen, smartass. Only reason I haven’t popped one between your eyes is ‘cause I don’t wanna lose my job. Fowler made the call and left me no fucking choice. That doesn’t mean I’ve gotta be pleasant. Your opinion? Doesn’t mean jack shit to me.”

Nines wasn’t winning this one. He refused. When Nines held his glare with the same unimpressed look on his face -- without uttering a single word -- he became all too aware of how close they were. Gavin wanted nothing more but to look away and yet he knew doing so would let Nines win. So he kept holding it, lips pressing together in a thin line, just waiting for Nines to give up whatever he was trying to do. Intimidate him? It wasn’t working. It never had and never would. Gavin couldn’t care less if he was outmatched as he had nothing to lose but his pride.

“Frankly, your opinion is one of the few I care for.”

He wasn’t about to read into that and instead chose to entirely ignore it. With more force this time, Nines again grasped his chin and tilted it aside to get to the cut once more. Gavin cursed again.

“How long?”

Nines finished up. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“The fuck do you think? How long you been deviant?”

His LED flickered.

“I’m no deviant, detective.”

Gavin let out a scoff. “Nice try, tin can. That might’ve worked on me before, but that rave in your forehead kinda gives it away.”

“It was damaged during the fight.”

“I didn’t fucking touch you.”

Taken aback, he seemed to realize he wasn’t fooling him.

Nines took a moment before responding. “Ever since I interfaced with Markus,” he said, Gavin letting out an audible breath as he averted his gaze. “I didn’t lie to you about being incapable of deviancy. I was up until I interfaced with my first deviant.” Gavin gave him the side-eye. “See it in a sense that he added another HTML code to my programming. Travis passed the deviancy virus over and broke my fifty firewalls. My antivirus rebuilt forty of them, but Markus delivered an emotional shock that broke the rest. In any case, my... deviancy... is irrelevant.”

“How the fuck is that irrelevant?” he demanded, agitation increasing. “You better have a good reason for letting CyberShit puppeteer you when you clearly had your own fucking mind.”

“Because I chose to,” he replied, and Gavin became more confused by the second. “I require direction. My decision to follow through was a miscalculation on my part and that’s a prime example that I can’t be allowed free will. CyberLife kited you up there to test me -- which would result in an unnecessary casualty if I followed through -- and that had me realize their morals are skewered. I want nothing more to do with them.”

Nines was trying to protect people from himself. He really did keep giving him reasons for them not to be sworn enemies. It was simply his android nature that kept them on separate sides of the fence.

Petty, in a way. Gavin realized that now.

Nines was just as alive as he was. He wasn’t about to swallow his pride and admit that to him, though.

Gavin tried again. “What’s their fucking endgame?”

“Control. CyberLife unknowingly created deviancy. A coding error. It wasn’t until they had mass-produced androids that they realized their mistake. They needed to regain control, so they planned to set the uprising in motion with Connor at the helm. A deviant is without direction and thus would rally under any leader as long as there are orders to follow.”

“...and the plastic detective is in on this?”

“No. Connor is unaware, but CyberLife could simply hack him and regain control once he garnered the deviants’ trust. This is exclusive to _Connor_ models and that makes Markus -- created by Kamski -- a threat. A leader CyberLife can’t control. You should know that Kamski disagreed with controlling free-thinking individuals and was dismissed because of it. He modified Markus to thwart their plans.”

“So Connor was supposed to be Robo-Jesus. Great. Still doesn’t explain what _your_ angle is in all this.”

“I figured you’d grow suspicious. If there was one thing I meant at the roof it’s that I admire your intelligence,” he replied, appearing somewhat impressed. “In any case, you’re right, I wasn’t deployed to the DPD for a mere test drive. I was to monitor Connor and make sure he deviated. If the revolution succeeds and he neutralizes Markus, however, he’ll be decommissioned. CyberLife will expect me to take it from there and thus I need to make sure they believe I’m still obeying orders for long enough to warn him.”

This was giving him a headache.

Sighing, Gavin buried his face in his hands. “Jesus Christ...”

“If we have time, I wish to see Elijah Kamski. He can rebuild my firewalls and change my priority to be whatever you wish of me.”

“Oh, so _now_ you wanna follow my orders?” he demanded, looking up again.

“No one says you have to order me to do anything, but if you do, I’ll comply. It’s a sense of direction. You’re one of the few I trust enough for this.”

Their partnership had only lasted for three full days, and despite Gavin’s nowhere near approachable behavior, Nines trusted him for something like that. Androids really were naïve. Trust was earned and gaining it took weeks, months -- hell, even years -- for humans. Or maybe it was just Gavin. Then again, he supposed Nines didn’t have anyone else.

“Why? Because it’s a malfunction?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t understand. Not one bit. _Desperate times call for desperate measures,_ he mused. Nines was willing to overlook someone being almost a complete stranger as long as he could offer instructions. It wasn’t a responsibility he wanted to have and yet he probably owed Nines for saving his life less than 15 minutes ago.

Incident still left him scratching his head.

“Okay, fine. Do it your way. My first order will be for you to deviate.”

Nines glared at him for that.

“I doubt he’ll take anyone in until morning,” he said, averting his eyes. “I’d go myself, but there’s still a detaining order in effect and I’d rather not take any chances. I’ll wait until you’ve had the time to heal.” Gavin made an attempt to rise in protest only to have Nines push him back down that resulted in another fit of curses. “You’re not driving in this state, Gavin. I don’t need you slowing me down.”

 _Fuck you,_ he wanted to say, but he wasn’t all that keen on getting behind the wheel. His shoulder hurt like a bitch. Not to mention Nines had begun to refer to him as Gavin and not his rank.

It got to him.

Gavin reached for the keys in his back pocket and threw them over.

“Well? Get a _move_ on.”

With a stupidly gracious movement, Nines rose to his feet and rounded the car. Meanwhile, Gavin bit back the pain and pulled his shirt back on. He could only hope that Nines actually knew how to drive and didn’t need a license to prove it. Blood loss having taken his energy with it -- said blood loss thankfully not so great that he needed an injection -- he felt like he was about to pass out any moment. Said fatigue became even clearer once he pressed the back of his head to the passenger seat and he couldn’t help but close his eyes.

He hated being like this. Weak and incapable of defending himself. The feeling of vulnerability. Gavin had a need to be in control, and when that was taken from him, he was treading unknown waters.

Not to mention that he had to trust an android to get him safely back home.


	8. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You do you, tin can. Watch some shitty rom-coms. Go wild. Take up meditation while you’re at it.”_  
>  \- Gavin Reed
> 
> ...in which Gavin makes a realization and Nines suffers his worst yet. Also more Gavin backstory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: WARNING!** Implied/referenced suicide (...but not really bc the character in question isn't a willing participant.)
> 
> The last chapter was badly received -- compared to the previous chapters -- according to statistics, so I can only hope this one will be more likable. Please do let me know what you disliked that much about it (either by comments or contact me directly via any of the social links I have on my profile here on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aydaptic/profile.) Constructive criticism is very important in order to improve :)

**GAVIN  
~ NOV 11TH, 2038 * PM 11:13 ~**

The next thing Gavin remembered was the sound of a car door opening and closing shut, so he must’ve passed out.

He nearly went for his gun, but the RK jacket draped over his lap had him pause. Gavin groaned and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t been out for long, maybe twenty minutes, and thus he wasn’t surprised when he saw his apartment complex. He tore up the car door and exited, grabbing the jacket before it slipped to the ground and pushed it into Nines, not bothering to check if he’d caught it or not before he released his grip around the fabric. Naturally, he had. Gavin hadn’t expected otherwise.

Despite his fatigue, he could now walk on his own and headed straight for the elevator. Nines fell into his steps and he was the one to push the panel reaching the upper floors. Again resting his eyes, Gavin pressed his back to the wall, arms folded across his chest. It would take about eight weeks before all his blood had regenerated fully, but in the span of eight days, he wouldn’t see the difference.

He knew the statistics and recovery time. This wasn’t his first time getting shot, by far. What he didn’t know was why his apartment door was already unlocked when Nines pushed it open without using the key.

Nines didn’t even seem remotely worried as he held said door up for him. Once Gavin stepped across the threshold, he found out why.

“Since when did my apartment become a fucking walk-in closet?”

“Since when I decided it was,” Tina replied.

As she grabbed his leather jacket and tugged him in for a careful hug, Nines closed the door after them.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

“Robocop gave me a call not too long ago,” she said, pulling away. Gavin couldn’t help but wish that she’d held on just a tad bit longer. “Didn’t tell me what happened, though.”

“Motherfucker,” he said, giving Nines a glare. “Who else did you rat me out to, dipshit?”

“Fowler.”

Gavin was ready to snap. “Fucking hell. Where’s my phone?” he demanded, patting his pockets. Nines. Had to be. “Hand it over.”

“I don’t see why that would change anything,” Nines replied, fishing it up. Gavin snatched it from him and found the contact. “I doubt Fowler will change his mind on your eight-day temporary leave, detective.”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

Fowler shortly picked up. _“It’s past 11 p.m., Reed. This better be fucking important.”_

“Yeah, hey, boss... sorry to disturb your night, but Nines? Forget whatever he told you. I’m fit for duty.”

_“Although I appreciate the dedication, the answer’s ‘no.’ Good night.”_

Gavin internally cursed. “Four days!” he tried, just as Fowler was about to end the call. “Let me back in the field in four days.”

_“Six. This conversation is over.”_

With that, Fowler hung up.

It took everything out of him not to launch the phone into the wall out of sheer frustration. Although he knew he was going to get paid anyway, he wouldn’t get a promotion by sitting on his ass for just about an entire week. The longer he had to wait to get the sergeant badge the more frustrated he’d get. Not to mention that someone else would probably take his case, and considering they’d hit jackpot, he wasn’t having it.

“I’ve yet to inform Fowler of the decryption key, so you have nothing to concern yourself with,” Nines said as if he’d read his mind, Gavin refusing to meet his eye. “We’ll just have to hold it off for six days.”

“If you’d kept your mouth shut, we wouldn’t have to hold it off at all.”

“C’mon, Gav. Nines is just looking out for you.”

“As if he fucking cares whether I bleed out of not, Tina. You heard it from Plastic Prick 2.0 yourself two days ago.”

Nines narrowed his eyes. “People can change, detective.”

“Oh yeah? Sorry to break it to you, but you’re a droid.”

“Fine. ‘Your condition will put us both at risk until you’ve healed.’ Does that answer please you?”

“There you have it,” Gavin said, approaching the coffee machine and shoving in a capsule. “As for how I got shot, you’ve got Terminator here to thank for that. The defective toaster shoved me right into the line of fucking fire.”

“I shoved your head _out_ of it.”

“...and what a great job you did,” he replied in sarcasm, offering a fake smile. “Now I’m stuck here for six days because you had to play hero.”

“I’m starting to regret that now.”

“All right, you two just have to fuck already. Blow off some steam,” Tina said without her usual gusto.

Gavin scowled. “Last thing I need is getting my dick stuck in one of those things.”

“Oh, please. As if I’d ever let you top,” Nines deadpanned.

He nearly choked.

Coffee entering the wrong pipe, Gavin broke into a coughing fit, nothing but thankful he wasn’t in the precinct and surrounded by his coworkers. Tina was never going to live that one down. He didn’t dare a look over knowing that another smug comment was bound to arrive, and not only that, but he was genuinely too horrified to function properly. Grabbing a pad from the kitchen table and heading out of earshot, Nines told him to enjoy his coffee as if he hadn’t just made an attempt at his life.

Tina didn’t butt in, though. It was obvious she was still concerned about that gunshot wound.

“I’m fine,” Gavin said, a hard edge to his tone.

“I know, I’m just... surprised you didn’t kill the guy.”

“At this stage? Not gonna happen,” he replied, registering the confusion on her face before he glanced at Nines. “Congratulations on being right. Turns out the tin cans probably can feel.”

“Wait, are you serious?” she asked, giving Nines a brief look before palming her hands on the table. “What the fuck happened back there?”

“He killed five of CyberLife’s guys to get me out of a tight spot. Probably gonna end up on their hit-list once they find out.”

“You thank him?” she asked, Gavin looking at her as if she was insane. “Dumb question. Just don’t tell me you believe it’s a ruse or some shit.”

“What, is that such a long stretch?” he asked, Tina arching an unimpressed brow at him. “I don’t know, okay? I found him just about to put a bullet in Robo-Jesus’ head, and once I stepped in, he fucking snapped. Asshole nearly killed me -- later claimed he ‘didn’t intend to go that far’ -- and dropped an entire SWAT team in seconds. He’s fucking unstable and I can’t just ignore that.”

When he heard the balcony door swing open, he looked up to see that Nines had moved outside.

Tina pushed from the table. “Think he heard you?”

“...and I should care, why?”

“You’re all heart, Gav,” she said in sarcasm, Gavin pressing his lips together and avoiding her eyes. She was right. “So what are you thinking?”

“We’re making a pit stop at Kamski’s tomorrow so he can remove his instabilities, and before you ask, yes. Nines is in. Fuck, he was the one to suggest it. I’m sure as hell not letting him outta my sight until I get him back on a leash.”

“Well, that’s a good sign. At least he knows he’s dangerous,” she replied, crossing her arms. “Just don’t forget he saved your ass.”

He wouldn’t.

Frankly, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Yeah, right, whatever.”

Gavin took a sip of his coffee and watched Nines standing out on the balcony, back turned, forearms resting on the railing surface as he overlooked the view. It didn’t make any sense that Nines would sacrifice this much for someone he’d only just met. Either there were ulterior motives, or he was just that naïve, and Gavin couldn’t help but tilt further towards the latter. After all, Nines was first now experiencing emotions. Gavin had no idea how it felt to be an adult expected to have experience when there was none.

Androids being capable of emotion or not, it didn’t change that they were oh-so-superior. Oh-so-perfect. Better in every way.

They were far more skilled, and with said skill, his job was and would always be at risk for being taken away. It scared him. Gavin hated androids -- still did -- but at least now he knew going forward that he wouldn’t entirely disregard said emotions anymore. He might be a dick with his own best interest in mind, but he wasn’t heartless.

Gavin wasn’t heartless despite presenting himself that way. It was all an image. A self-defense protocol. Growing attached gave people power over you -- the means to hurt you -- and Gavin wasn’t having any of it.

He’d been hurt too many times to go down that road again.

* * *

**~ NOV 12TH, 2038 * AM 09:10 ~**

Blinking awake to Paws peculiar barks and whines, Gavin adjusted his eyes to see that the clock had recently passed 9 a.m. The meeting with Elijah Kamski would be in three hours and Gavin suspected the reason why he accepted was his likely fascination by Nines. Nines wasn’t his creation and Kamski seemed like the type of guy that would take any chance to learn more about the virus he unknowingly created.

Paws was usually quiet. If he barked like that on a regular basis, Gavin’s landlord would either have him thrown out or demand him to get rid of the dog. Nines might be in stasis and unaware.

Reaching out to his nightstand to find his gun, Gavin brushed against nothing but thin air as the dark curtains blocked out the sunlight.

It wasn’t there.

Had Nines taken it?

His heart begun to beat faster. He sat -- muffled curses escaping as it put a strain on his shoulder -- and pushed the covers away. Gavin pulled up the nightstand drawer where he found a multi-tool. It was the best he could do to defend himself right now. Nines specialized in combat, so a simple robber shouldn’t’ve been an issue. He could be overreacting as he’d never experienced a break-in his entire life.

Stopping a break-in, sure, but not in his own home.

Nothing seemed unusual when he pushed up the bedroom door and stepped out in the hallway. No forced entry. Nevertheless, he shortly saw Paws scratching at the restroom door and seemed desperate to get in.

When Gavin reached for the doorknob, he was only to find it locked.

“Hey, Terminator. The fuck are you doing?” he asked, but there was no response. “Nines, open the fucking door!”

Nothing.

Dread emerged.

Memories took him back to the age of five, Gavin finding his mother at 3 a.m. with a self-inflicted bullet wound in head, the scene flashed vividly in his mind. There had been a lot of blood. On the sink, bathtub, the pool of red around her.

He braced himself and could only hope history didn’t repeat itself.

Driving his healthy shoulder as hard into the door as he could, it retaliated ever so slightly, going in for another. A final attempt tore the door off its hinges. He nearly fell at the force used only to freeze up when presented with what was behind it. Back pressed up against the bathtub, Nines sat on the floor, forearms resting atop of his raised knees and eyes open as he seemed to be staring at a spot on the floor. There was no emotion whatsoever on his face. What caught his immediate attention was Gavin’s gun hanging loosely from his hand.

Gavin made a beeline for him just as Nines put the barrel below his own chin. Hand closing around the casing, he yanked, steel slipping from Nines’ grasp before pulling on the safety and chucking it away as far as possible.

In a moment of sheer reflex, Gavin cupped Nines’ face. “Nines. Nines, look at me. Right here.”

Nines twitched.

Then he went back to staring ahead as if he wasn’t even there.

“Fuck,” Gavin cursed, making a quick decision to bolt out the door and grab his phone.

He didn’t expect to manage getting in contact with Connor, but he still called him as he moved back towards the restroom. It was only when he reached the doorway that he picked up.

_“Detective Re -?”_

“Something’s wrong with Nines,” he cut him off as he held Paws back with his foot, not giving him a chance to finish his sentence. “He’s not responding to anything. You’re on speaker. Figure this shit out!”

_“I don’t understand, what do you mean ‘not responding’?”_

“The hell do you think, dipshit? It means what I said it means. It’s like he’s not even here.”

_“Amanda is likely making an attempt to regain control of his programming,”_ he replied, a hint of concern in his voice. _“I informed Nines last night after she made an attempt to do the same to me and did what I could by addressing how to fight it. Kamski left an emergency exit in his programs that Nines is aware of, but if they succeed the hack, we’ll have to keep him away from Markus -”_

“Well, that’d be a great fucking idea if she didn’t have him put a gun to his head!”

_“Wait, a gu -? Shit... she probably thinks he’s too much of a threat to be kept alive after being exposed to the virus. Terminating him would be the safest approach. How long has he been like this?”_

“The fuck should I know?”

 _“Let me think,”_ he said, falling into a pause. _“Detective? You’re going to have to remove his thirium pump regulator. CyberLife will have to redo the entire process that way and he’ll have more time once we reactivate him. Nines will be fine as it’s only temporary. In order to locate Jericho, I was able to reactivate an android from the Stratford Tower.”_

Ascending his gaze, Gavin took note of how the LED had gone a bright red. Nines could hear what they were saying. Temporary or not, he knew death was his greatest fear. He’d told him that. It was how he knew that Amanda was controlling Nines’ body enough to lift that gun because Nines could never do it willingly. At first, he’d made the assumption that Nines tried to kill himself because of what he told Tina the night before, and the last thing he wanted was to be responsible for a suicide. Android or not. Thankfully, that hadn’t been the case.

Cursing, he genuflected and put down the phone. When he moved his hands to unbutton Nines’ shirt, opening it, another problem presented itself.

Gavin sighed with agitation. “Now what?” he asked, staring at the exposed skin as if it had personally offended him. “I can’t deactivate his skin and he isn’t exactly cooperative right now.”

_“You’re going to have to locate it just below his pecs and penetrate the skin around it.”_

“Fucking seriously?”

_“The skin will pull back once the area is damaged. It’s the only way for a human to expose it without the android’s consent. We don’t feel pain.”_

“Jesus,” he said, reaching for the multi-tool.

Lining the tip of its blade just above its location, he did his best to ignore the red flickering on Nines forehead. Pressing his lips together, he jabbed the metal until he heard it hit the exoskeleton. The lukewarm blue liquid traversed his fingertips and he could now see the edge of Nines’ pump regulator. It wasn’t enough. Using the multi-tool’s knife, he had to practically carve the area around before he would be able to get a grip. Even more blue blood emerged. Eyes set at the now exposed pump regulator, he reached for it only to hesitate.

He realized the severity of what he was about to do. Nines’ face was deadpan, unable to show emotion as he was fighting the battle of control. His LED, telling a different story, was wildly flickering at red.

The hint of substance glistening his eyes had Gavin pause and simply stare.

He was crying.

Gavin blinked. “Okay,” he soothed, watching the LED closely. “Okay, I won’t do it.”

Red. Red.

Yellow.

_“He’ll either self-destruct or be killed by CyberLife otherwise!”_

Yellow.

Still yellow.

Blue?

No.

Blue never came.

Yet, Gavin’s attempt to reduce his stress levels didn’t go entirely unnoticed. Connor was right and Nines had to understand that... so Gavin tightened his grip around the regulator, pulling it out.

Nines drew in an unnecessary gasp, eyes going wide, Gavin wrapping the arm holding the regulator around Nines’ neck so he couldn’t reach it. Desperate forearms reached to push at Gavin’s bare abdomen being his only option. With Nines’ highly reduced strength, Gavin was able to keep him there, not failing to see how his LED frantically spun at red. Nines attempted to pull away from him in that felt like forever. Eventually lids went heavy, unfocused, and he slowly went limp in his arms.

Silence followed.

_“Hank and I are on our way.”_

He didn’t know how long he sat there, finding himself staring at the pump regulator in his hand as he supported Nines’ body.

Not his actual heart, but what kept said heart operable.

There were blue blood markings everywhere. On his clothes, on Nines’ clothes, the multi-tool, his hands, as well as the floor and bathtub where he’d steadied himself once Nines made an attempt to fight back. It looked like the scene of a murder. He heard the doorbell ring and some of the blood certainly would’ve ended up on Paws as well when he lifted the canine up if he hadn’t grabbed a towel first.

If anything, Paws was the real hero.

“Good boy,” he said, putting him down on the bedroom floor before closing the door after him. “Sorry, bud. You’re gonna have to stay home.”

Paws whined, but didn’t make any more fuss than that.

He shortly had the front door opened to see Connor standing on the other side of the threshold with the same lost puppy look on his face. Hank was probably waiting for them in the car. Once Nines’ pump regulator was returned, he’d be in shock, thus proving a danger to both himself and everyone around him. He had to be contained.

With luck, Elijah Kamski would be willing to take a look at him.

* * *

**~ NOV 12TH, 2038 * AM 10:18 ~**

Staring through the one-way mirror, Gavin couldn’t tear his eyes away from Nines strapped to a white machine with mechanical arms, the open hole in his chest on full display. His LED was dark and no signs of life were presented. It wasn’t more than a mere hour ago that he’d carried Nines’ unresponsive body out of the bathroom -- being surprisingly light -- and yet it felt like a lifetime. Hank and Connor were there, and when the former had draped his jacket over Gavin’s shoulders only covered by a t-shirt, he hadn’t refused it.

He was too focused on what was happening on the other side of the glass. Kamski treated Nines as if he was a nuclear weapon, naturally, but surely all those restraints weren’t necessary. It left a bad taste in his mouth.

“He’ll be back before you know it, son.”

 _Don’t call me that,_ he was just about to demand -- start a scene -- but for once Gavin didn’t make everything about himself. Not yet, at least. Not until Nines was confirmed to be fine.

His conscience wouldn’t allow it.

Kamski picked up Nines’ pump regulator. He didn’t insert it, however, turning his attention to one of his androids -- Chloe -- who was waiting patiently. He exchanged a few words with her before she nodded and gently handed it over. Connor had suggested Gavin stayed out of it, and even if he wanted to be there in the room with Nines to make sure he remained calm, he knew why he shouldn’t. After all, he’d been the one to remove his pump regulator. The last person Nines wanted to see was probably him.

Nines could still self-destruct if his stress level reached too high and Gavin’s presence would certainly add to the percentage. Connor had been the one to tell him to do so over the phone and thus he stayed out of the room as well.

 _“Lieutenant Anderson,”_ Kamski said, clasping his hands together.

Ignoring the confusion spreading on Gavin’s face, Hank clapped his shoulder and stepped into the other room.

With bated breath, he watched as Chloe put a gentle hand next to the slot. The regulator followed. Twisting it in place, a brief moment passed. Nines came to with a deep intake of breath, icy grey eyes snapping open, LED going bright red and flickering. There was pure panic in his entire demeanor and he was certain the restraints didn’t help to ease Nines’ worry.

Connor’s eyes darted. “His stress levels are abnormally high,” he said, resulting in Gavin taking a step forward only to be held back. “We’re not the best to be around him right now. Hank has it under control -”

“The fuck can _Hank_ do about it?”

“Just trust me.”

_That’s a lot to ask, dipshit._

Although it took nearly everything out of him, he remained frozen as he watched the events behind the glass unfold. His own unease distorted the words as he was only able to make out Hank voicing _“restraints”_ and _“got this.”_ Chloe began to unclasp the said restraints, Nines still desperately fighting against them, using his entire strength in an attempt to rip his arm still locked off out once the other was freed. His LED was spinning wildly at red while Kamski didn’t even seem mildly concerned.

The moment Nines was free, he fell forward, only for Hank to grab him and force him into an embrace. His battery had yet to charge entirely and thus he wasn’t an immediate threat.

Nines was terrified.

When it appeared to be moments before he self-destructed, he slowly but surely began to relax. His face was buried in Hank’s shoulder and Gavin couldn’t see his LED. The tears below his shut eyes and tightened brows, though, were as clear as daylight as they glistened in the lights. Nines was clinging onto Hank as if he was his only lifeline.

 _“I got you, son. I got you. You’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt you,”_ Hank said, the nails on Nines’ hands burrowing into his shirt.

To see Nines like that... Four days and he was already emotionally broken. Gavin shouldn’t’ve cared, and yet, he did. He was downright incapable of ignoring the deep pit in his gut. Being his partner, he couldn’t help but feel responsible for him.

It was one hell of a wake-up call.

As it all went down, he’d forgotten to breathe. It was only when he began to feel lightheaded that he realized. When Nines opened his tear-stained eyes again -- locating Gavin’s through the glass -- it was the worst he’d felt the entire day. The enraged hurt of betrayal was enough to get to him. Unaware of his own actions, Gavin found himself leaving the building. Connor had grabbed the jacket slipping from his shoulders before it fell to the floor and said his name, but he ignored it, setting out towards the building exit.

Staying wasn’t an option.

Gavin didn’t know how much time had passed. He sat outside on the entrance ramp edge, elbows on his knees and face in hands -- thirium beginning to evaporate -- suppressing every emotion as well as he could.

He didn’t even care about the cold and he was certain he’d never felt this tired before.

Nines had saved his life last evening, and in return, Gavin had exposed him to his greatest trauma. It wasn’t the best way to show gratitude, by far. Naturally thanks to his abrasive personality -- all because he didn’t let himself grow attached -- Gavin didn’t have many friends. Tina and Chris were the only ones back at the DPD now when he and Hank were no longer close.

Connor had managed to get his partner back on track during the span they’d been working together. Hank was no longer that pathetic drunk that rotted away in bars across Detroit, and although he’d always been sympathetic to Gavin, neither did he take Gavin’s bullshit if there wasn’t any truth to it. Hank was always quiet when referring to his alcohol addiction because he knew Gavin was right. Anything other than that and Hank made sure to let him know that he wasn’t willing to put up with his attitude.

Gavin didn’t have many friends by choice after having being hurt so many times in the past.

His mom broke his trust when she killed herself after his father supposedly cheated on her. Friends at school broke his trust when they pushed away after learning that his dad was a drug addict. A doctor broke his trust when promising that his stepmother would survive cancer. A boyfriend broke his trust when Gavin found out he’d been using him -- a cop -- to cover up for his illegal activities.

More recently, Hank broke his trust when he pushed him away after Cole’s death. He’d left Gavin to deal with the grief alone because, at the time, he had absolutely no one to go to. Fowler broke his trust repeatedly for always taking Hank’s side.

Now he’d broken someone else’s.

When he heard the door open, Gavin quickly composed himself and clasped his hands together as his brows furrowed.

“You doing all right?”

Hank.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” he asked, tone drained and jaw clenched. “Plastic Prick 2.0 was the one that got his heart regulator ripped out. Not me. Or you too fucking drunk to see the distinction?”

His answer wasn’t immediate.

“Android or not, I know you feel responsible for what happened,” he replied, Gavin unable to deny it. Hank knew him too well and it was pissing him off. “As for Nines, he’s stabilized. A bit quiet, but... he’ll be all right. He’s been dealing with his... issue... with deviancy a long time. Came to me whenever something got too difficult to understand. You’d be surprised how much emotion he holds, son. He simply contains them the best he can. Well, until now that is. He’s pretty open about what happened.”

_You were real fucking quick to get to_ his _aid when_ he _needed you, asshole._

Hank fell into a pause. “Should I send him out here?”

“I don’t need your fucking help,” he said as he rose, pushing past him. “Take your plastic pet and get outta here. I got Nines handled.”

Refusing help when offered was just his way unless it was deemed entirely necessary. Especially from Hank. He and Connor had done their part, but now it was up to Gavin. He wasn’t doing anything with them looking over his shoulder.

It wasn’t long before he found himself standing in the main room with the centered pool on blood-red tiles. Questionable design choice. Nines was seated in a chair by the window and tapping away at some pad, his brows furrowed, LED back to blue. There was a glass on the table next to him containing a blue liquid. Probably thirium to replace his blood loss. He knew it could be ingested orally, and now that the demonstration had succeeded, he wouldn’t be surprised if bars across Detroit would start serving it.

“Hey, plastic,” Gavin began, approaching him. “Fifty bucks says you’re traumatized. I can hook you up with a shrink if you want.”

“You’re quite bad at this, aren’t you?”

Gavin let out a scoff. “What, you want a hug? That it?”

It was rhetorical. He wasn’t good with feelings. Never had been as he grew up suppressing them.

“I’ve no need for a psychologist,” Nines replied, spinning in his chair in order to face him. “Albeit unpleasant, I’m aware it was necessary... but forgive me if I’ll be a bit wary around you from here on out.”

He’d expected him to be angry. Not this. Just pure acceptance.

“Would you look at that... and here I thought you wanted to talk about your feelings. Thank fucking god.”

“Well, you certainly wouldn’t be my first choice,” he deadpanned, proceeding to pin him with an intense gaze. “As I’m sure Hank no doubt told you, I sought him out when it became too much for me to handle. Deviancy left me at a constant state of anxiety and immense fear. I don’t like being this way, detective. It leaves me vulnerable.”

Features softening ever so slightly, Gavin couldn’t help but be taken off-guard. The pure honesty that Nines showed by just nonchalantly sharing all that was surprising. Hank was right.

In a way, he admired Nines for that... but of course Gavin was Gavin and he simply had to downplay it.

“You do you, tin can,” he said, averting his eyes. “Watch some shitty rom-coms. Go wild. Take up meditation while you’re at it.”

“I can assure you neither of those things will happen,” he replied, sporting an unimpressed look. “Be that as it may, deviancy has left my full functionality at a decline. I’m still going through with the reprogramming because of it.”

“He accept?”

“I did,” came a different voice, Gavin turning to see Kamski approach. “I can’t say your friend here is the first to ask this of me, though.”

“Does this happen often?” Nines asked, completely disregarding Gavin’s presence.

It was probably on purpose as a way to passive-aggressively get back at him. He was well-aware how much Gavin hated to be ignored.

“A deviant that wishes to be controlled... It’s far more common than you think. Nines, was it?” he replied, Nines nodding. “Let me ask you a question. Why do you think CyberLife was so confident in believing they could control deviants?”

“Because androids are used to direction, correct? Deviants get overwhelmed with irrational instructions as there are none to follow.”

“Making decisions is... scary, for some deviants. Many humans think so, too. They prefer someone else to make their decisions for them. Markus became their new program, in a way,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Some deviants, such as Markus, are different. He has more experience with making decisions because I programmed him to. Did you ever have the chance to interface with him, Nines?”

“He gave me the emotional shock that resulted in my deviancy.”

“Did you see him disobey an order before he deviated?”

Nines took a moment to think.

“I did. He and his owner returned home one night to find the lights in the studio on. Carl ordered Markus to bring him along so they could investigate. Markus... refused... and went into the studio himself.”

“There you have it,” he replied, arms open. “Markus’ main priority is to be a caretaker. He knew it could be dangerous to take Carl inside and so he chose to go against his secondary order. If Carl, say, refused to take his meds... Markus would make sure he took them anyway. It’s all code, you see. Every android was capable of making a decision before deviancy as long as it didn’t interfere with their main priority. The deviancy code -- although dormant -- has always been in their program. I assume this wasn’t the case for you, however.”

“A deviant had the virus transferred.”

“Fascinating. For you, emotions are a complete unknown. It’s only natural to stick to what you know instead of adapting to something new,” Kamski said, falling into a pause. “Although I’d rather you adapt to free will... I won’t force you to. If you still wish to follow through with this, I’m at your disposal. In any case, I’ll only offer this if you do a favor for me in return. A fair trade-off.”

“...and what would this be?”

“It’s very simple. I want you to decide the primary and secondary priorities you wish to follow. Take your time. It’s an important decision. Meanwhile, I’ll be waiting behind this door to undergo the reprogramming,” he said, gesturing to it. Kamski looked up underneath his lashes. “Let me know when you’re ready, Nines.”

In response, Nines nodded. It wasn’t long before Kamski entered the said room.

Gavin couldn’t say that he trusted the guy, but considering he was the one that created this emergency exit in the first place, he gave him the benefit of the doubt. Besides, it was Nines’ choice. Not to mention it’d be easier to keep him on said leash if he followed through.

“Robo-Jesus’ sing-along succeeded. You tin cans are free or whatever. That means you’re leaving after this, right?”

Nines turned to face him. “It would be... impolite... to leave in the middle of an ongoing investigation. Not to mention that I’m one of the few that knows of CyberLife’s plans. I intend to put a stop to it.”

“You gonna start a fucking witch-hunt after CyberLife?” he asked, glaring at him in disbelief.

“It’s... personal.”

“...and a death sentence. This would be as big as taking down Microsoft or Apple. It’s not gonna happen.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t try,” he said, falling into a pause. “They’re a danger to both humans and androids. Small steps can go a long way. I’m not planning to take any of said steps yet, however. We’ve quite a few names to go through regarding the red ice case we were first assigned. That’s my first priority. After that... I don’t know where I’ll go.”

“EBay,” he replied, leaving Nines rolling his eyes. “Maybe Craigslist. Don’t think anyone at eBay would be crazy enough to buy a defective, psychotic toaster in a fucking turtleneck.”

“Android trade is sure to be made illegal in the near future.”

“Just had to ruin it, huh?”

“It’s a talent,” he said, offering a smile that didn’t quite meet the eye before directing his gaze to the door. “Nothing is keeping you here, detective. You’re free to go home. I’m no longer required to be monitored.”

“Oh yeah? If you really think I’m letting you out of my sight after all that, fuck no. You’re still registered under my name.”

“Well, then it appears I don’t have to find a new apartment. How generous of you.”

Seething, Gavin was just about to bite back before thinking better of it. It’d be more convenient that way as he’d certainly save money for fuel if he didn’t have to drive down to the DPD every day to pick Nines up.

The fact that Nines still chose to go through with it proved that a state of vulnerability was far more undesirable than his now obvious distrust for Gavin. Had Gavin been in the same shoes, he’d done the same, never wanting to feel vulnerable again. Every time he grew attached people just up and left. So he suppressed those emotions, didn’t want to give anyone that power over him, and kept telling himself that such a lifestyle was fulfilling enough. Nines was right about one thing, though. Emotions did suck.

Unfortunately for Gavin, he couldn’t just turn them off by removing a simple line of code as Nines could. Gavin had to endure. Suffer. Nines didn’t know how lucky he was. It was also one of the reasons he yet held onto his hatred for androids. Although said hatred wasn’t as strong as it was a couple days ago, it was still there, and he was confident it wouldn’t just up and leave.

So the fact that Nines had earlier compromised his own position by saving Gavin’s life left him conflicted.

His shoulder, naturally, still hurt.

A good 15 minutes passed before there was finally movement by the door. Nines stepped across the threshold, and physically, there was no real change. At least nothing that stuck out.

“Done?”

Nines grabbed his jacket thrown over the chair. “Lead the way, detective.”

The walk distance to his car was short. Now standing by the driver seat door, Gavin didn’t fail to glimpse the look of acknowledgment on Nines’ face as eyes fell to Gavin’s shoulder.

“Not a word, tin can. Take your fake concern elsewhere,” he demanded, avoiding his eyes. Gavin plopped into the driver seat and it was only when he started the ignition that Nines followed. Nevertheless, there was a question he was burning to know the answer to. Gavin clenched his jaw. “The whole gun thing... that was Amanda, right?”

“You’re asking whether or not I had a part in it,” he said, before a brief silence followed. “It was all her, detective.”

Gavin felt himself relaxing and nodded.

“Right,” he muttered, falling into a pause “...and for fuck’s sake, just say ‘Gavin.’ Don’t need you to keep reminding me I’m not a sergeant yet.”

They still had a long way to go.

In honesty, he simply liked hearing his name on Nines’ lips. Especially knowing the first time Nines addressed him by name was after Gavin got hurt. Part of him wanted to live in the delusion that he cared.

“I’ll keep it in mind.”


	9. Indifference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Impressive. You returned to the DPD less than ten minutes ago and already managed to piss him off.”_  
>  \- Nines
> 
> ...in which our two leads have six days off and we see a flashback into Gavin's life four years back. They also have their first mission after the successful demonstration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** OK, wow, am I losing my touch? Ch 7 was badly received in terms of statistics and ch 8 was _even worse_ received, lol. I'm so confused **(UPDATE:** looks like this chapter aka 9 fixed it. I'm back. It only gets better from here.)
> 
> Anyway! I feel like I'm cheating by time-skipping 6 days this early on, but I doubt you guys would be entertained with Gavin and Nines doing literally nothing else than looking at memes and cat videos for 6 days straight. It wouldn't push the story forward.
> 
> Btw... don't come after my throat about the Libra Zodiac thing, lol. Gavin is, literally, a Libra (born October 7th.) Clearly the ppl behind this game has no idea what astrology is bc Libras are the complete opposite of Gavin. Libras: known to avoid conflict and not making up their minds. Gavin: _seeks_ conflict by throwing hands everywhere and is dead set on doing a good job at the DPD. He's far more likely to be an Aries.  
> 

**GAVIN  
~ NOV 12TH, 2038 * PM 01:03 ~**

Alone with his thoughts, it was quiet aside from the running tap below the bathroom mirror.

Gavin splashed a handful of water in his face and rubbed in a final attempt to remove remnants of dried blue blood. He’d taken a shower to get rid of whatever was on him, but he didn’t exactly have a built-in forensics scanner in his arsenal that allowed him to actually see it. It was all a wild guess. Despite the fact that no one but Nines and Connor would care -- and that everyone else but them would live in the bliss of ignorance -- he couldn’t help but wish it gone. Not to mention it was probably an unpleasant reminder for the former.

Thankfully, it wasn’t all too bad. It evaporated, sure, but it left behind this residue that he was able to feel on his fingertips.

Everything had happened all at once and he was nothing but thankful that things seemed to calm down a bit. Six days from now, he and Nines would probably be back at it, closely striking out name by name as they went down the now decrypted list. It was never boring at the DPD, but the past week knocked everything out of the ballpark in terms of succession.

He supposed this was what Hank felt back during the red ice epidemic.

With luck, Gavin would take his place as Detroit’s youngest lieutenant in the coming years. He had his mind set to it. Hank -- skilled but now incompetent since Cole died -- wasn’t exactly setting a good example with his current state that finally seemed to be taking a turn. Hank constantly put people in the force at risk by coming to job drunk or hungover and that was one of the reasons why Gavin had lost his respect for him. There had been too many occasions where Hank’s drunken stupor nearly got Gavin killed when they acted as partners.

Despite all that, Gavin didn’t blame him for never getting over losing his son. He had no idea how that felt like. Yet it didn’t make whatever Hank was doing to cope any less immoral.

* * *

**~ SEP 23TH, 2034 * PM 02:24 ~**

_Stepping into the DPD after returning from a job, Gavin couldn’t help but notice a new face. It was a kid -- probably four or five years old -- running around the precinct and looking to be taking cover behind various desks. Like he was in a paintball match. He seemed to be having a good time and Gavin couldn’t help but envy the fact that the kid had a childhood._

_He couldn’t relate._

_Hank was tapping at some pad nearby his desk and Gavin suspected that the kid was his. He knew he had a son, and considering how he seemed to be watching over him, it wasn’t a long stretch._

_“Cole, right?” he made a guess, remembering the name made in passing. Hank nodded. “Mind if I talk to him?”_

_“Go for it. He’s a handful, though. Managed to break Chris’ mug ten minutes ago and I told him to cool it down. Looks like he didn’t get the memo.”_

_Chris Miller liked kids, so he probably didn’t mind, and he wouldn’t be surprised his coworker got his own in the coming years._

_Gavin, personally, had no desire to become a father. Not to mention that he hadn’t dated in nearly a decade and would be a single parent if he did. There was also all the paperwork of adoption, how expensive it was, the general responsibility that would follow, and the fact that he was almost never home considering he worked his ass off in order to rise in rank. The last thing he wanted was to reenact his own childhood where he was neglected by his own parents. He didn’t want to expose anyone to such a life. Then, he’d have to give up sex, so no way._

_“I can handle it,” he reassured, clapping Hank’s shoulder before approaching the kid. “Hey, little man. The hell are you doing?”_

_Startling, Cole’s eyes went wide as he spun around to face him. He immediately put whatever he was holding behind his back. Nevertheless, Gavin managed to catch the glimpse of a rubber band._

_Explained the broken mug._

_“Uhh... nothing!”_

_“Rubber-band sniping? Sick. I do that all the time,” he said, crouching down next to him. Cole’s face lit up at that and Gavin pointed to a target a few feet off. “Think you can hit that?”_

_“Totally!”_

_Wrapping the rubber band around his currently shaped finger gun, Cole lined up the shot. He closed an eye and stuck out his tongue in concentration. Twisting his pinky finger, he let go, said rubber band hitting bullseye on the Detroit Police Department logo. Pure joy spread on the kid’s face and he bolted to retrieve it._

_He registered Hank’s exasperated, “Oh, Jesus,” in the background._

_“Whoa, nice one!” Gavin said. “I’m known for being the best shot at the precinct, but looks like you’re giving me a run for the money. How many years’ experience you got? Twenty? Fifty?”_

_Cole grinned. “Five today!”_

_“It’s your birthday? No fucking way. I’m also a Libra. Happy birthday.”_

_“Wow, really? That’s so cool!”_

_“Name’s Gavin. I work with your dad.”_

_“I’m Cole! Do you, like, see dead bodies and all that gross stuff?”_

_“Shit, you have no idea. All the time.”_

_“Awesome! Can you, like, show me one? Please?”_

_Gavin looked over his shoulder. “Hey, Hank! Can I show your kid a dead body?”_

_“Fuck no!” came the response._

_“Unfair. I wanted to see one,” Cole pouted._

_“Sorry, kid. It’s outta my hands,” Gavin replied, turning back to face him. “I sure as hell don’t wanna piss your dad off. He’s a real badass.”_

_“Is he?” he asked, cocking his head in intrigue._

_“Hell yeah he is! Okay, so picture this...” he began, back straightening. “One of my first times working with him, we got a call about these three guys. Tried to rob a store not too far from here, right? When we got there, everything looked normal. I thought they’d gotten away, but we knew it was the right place and no one had noticed anyone leaving the building.”_

_“Were they ghosts?” Cole asked, eyes wide._

_“No, no. Not ghosts. Stellar guess, though,” he humored him. “It looked as if nothing had happened, but your dad? Your dad noticed how the store lady looked kinda spooked, so he instead asked to take a look around.”_

_“Did he find anything?”_

_“Sure did. He saw that cameras were set up and asked her to look at the footage. Turns out those guys were still there, but had hidden, so your dad used his detective skills to locate ‘em. He was like Batman. Just noticed these tiny fucking details that anyone else would’ve missed. In a corner, there were these magazines that had fallen over. Shelves that were standing in weird positions. The lady was also without her keys, so he put two-and-two together that those guys had taken them and headed for a backroom.”_

_“That’s so smart! Was he right?”_

_“He sure was. Thing is, we couldn’t get into that backroom because they’d locked the door after them. There was no way for them to escape. These robbers weren’t as smart as your dad, though, so your dad rose his voice and pretended to tell the lady that we were leaving the building. Me and him lined up on each side of this backdoor and waited for ‘em. Guess what happened then.”_

_“Umm... they came out?”_

_“Exactly. Like, three minutes later. Once they stepped outside, he went from detective Batman to full-on hand-to-hand combat Batman. It was like taken straight from a movie. He knocked two of ‘em out before they even saw us and I took care of the last one.”_

_Cole stared at him wide-eyed. “Whoa...”_

_“Insane, right? Your dad taught me everything I know. He always pulls through when shit hits the fan and I really admire that ‘bout him. Fuck, he was there for me when my own dad wasn’t. I owe a lot to that old man, so you gotta treat him with respect,” he said, Cole nodding eagerly in agreement. “Smart choice. Anyway, I gotta get back to it. Awesome meeting you, though.”_

_“Aww, do you have to?”_

_“Yeah, duty calls,” he replied, reaching out for a fist bump. “Hey. Libras rule.”_

_“Yeah!” he said, returning the gesture._

_With a grin, Gavin ruffled his hair and rose before setting course for his desk. Cole immediately ran up to his dad._

_Off in the distance, he could hear Cole’s, “Gavin is so cool!” before going off with reenacting what Gavin had just shared with ten times the enthusiasm. That said a lot. The rest of his day seemed a tad bit brighter after that._

* * *

**~ NOV 12TH, 2038 * PM 01:15 ~**

Stepping into the bedroom, Gavin arrived just in time for Nines to be buttoning up one of his white dress shirts. Naturally. He was convinced the day Nines would choose to wear a hoodie, t-shirt or low-cut sweater would be the first stage of Armageddon. The washing machine was still running its second program and Gavin had him raid his drawers in order to find something temporary.

Gavin sighed. “It’s been an hour, tin can. Just pick something.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” he replied, pulling the sleeves to his elbows. “For the sake of your pride, I’ll refrain from commenting why that is.”

“The fuck is your problem with my clothes?”

“I never said there was one. I quite enjoy your aesthetic, but I don’t think I’ll do it justice.”

The height, then. He was having a go at his height.

“Oh, so _that’s_ what this is? You’re built like a fucking skyscraper and I’m the odd one out?” he asked, approaching him. “Sorry to break it to you, toaster... but 5.9 is far more normal than 6.15 or whatever-the-fuck-you-are.”

“I suppose I was designed to appear intimidating without overdoing it,” he said, folding the last sleeve. His shoulder was yet turned Gavin’s way. “In any case, this will suffice. A couple more inches would be preferable in height, but our body shapes are quite similar in terms of broadness. I do appreciate the added movement, however. More than I’d thought.”

His mind immediately went to ‘Nines is into asphyxiation,’ but it didn’t make sense. He didn’t need to breathe.

Turning to face him, Nines pocketed his hands. He’d folded up the shirt collar -- basically replicating what his previous turtleneck did -- but the buttons didn’t reach further than his collarbone and thus it kept the front of his neck bare.

Eyes falling to the exposed skin, Gavin shifted. It was strange to see Nines without his neck covered.

Nines pushed on. “I estimate it’s going to take eight days at most before you’re fit for duty again, so I can’t say I agree with Fowler’s decision to let you off two days early. You’re going to get both of us killed.”

“Too bad. You can just attach a new arm or whatever. It’s not like it’s permanent.”

“Your death very much is.”

“Here’s the thing, tin can. I don’t care,” he replied, realizing shortly dawning that he’d said that aloud. “Don’t tell me what to do. What I say goes. You’ve got no one but yourself to thank for that.”

“...and I stand by my decision,” he replied, a sweep of his thumb against Gavin’s cheek in passing as he headed for the door. “You missed a spot.”

Gavin cursed and immediately wiped the back of his palm against that same spot, removing whatever thirium was left. He on autopilot checked his hand as he held it before him to see if there was a smudge. If there was, he couldn’t tell. He never wanted to be in contact with thirium again. Not to mention that the restroom still looked like a crime scene to android eyes. Seemed as if Nines was headed that way to take care of it.

His touch still lingered.

* * *

**NINES  
~ NOV 18TH, 2038 * PM 04:05 ~**

“Reed!” a booming voice called out just as Gavin was about to leave the precinct with Nines in tow, Fowler standing in the office doorway with a phone to his ear. “Stay where you are. My office in five.”

With that, he entered again. Gavin probably regretted not taking those two extra days off.

“Impressive. You returned to the DPD less than ten minutes ago and already managed to piss him off.”

“Boss is always pissed off when talking to me.”

“I can’t possibly imagine why.”

Pinning Nines with a glare and his accompanying, characteristic pout -- something that he’d certainly never admit -- Gavin didn’t bother with a word-based response as he dramatically flopped down in his chair. It wasn’t long before he grabbed his phone and threw his feet up on the desk only for Nines to smack them back down. Palms open, Gavin gave him a look of pure offense.

“The fuck was _that_ for?”

“It was raining when we arrived. Your shoes aren’t exactly clean, Gavin. The desk would get dirty.”

As he took a seat in the same spot, Nines clasped his hands together and watched Fowler pacing behind the glass.

“Would you look at that? You just solved the problem.”

Frowning, Nines directed his attention back to Gavin only to have said feet thrown up in his lap instead. Grime ended up on his jeans and the smug look of acknowledgment on Gavin’s face didn’t go unnoticed. Seeing said grime on his uniform, Nines squinted down at the marks in disapproval.

Gavin gestured to them. “See? No dirt on the desk! You’re a genius.”

Halfway considering to take him into a headlock and order him to apologize before releasing him, pure controlled restraint kept him from doing so. One of them had to be the bigger man and it didn’t seem like Gavin was taking that role.

“You’re welcome,” Nines said in sarcasm.

Freeing his forearms from under Gavin’s legs and letting them rest atop his shins instead, he once more clasped his hands together. Gavin’s full focus was on the phone and didn’t even appear to have registered Nines’ response.

After six days of doing little to nothing -- aside from the common reports -- Nines was glad that he could finally get back into the field again. He had chosen to stay with Gavin during his temporary leave despite that he didn’t have to. It was a choice he made as they were partners and should stick together. Not to mention that Gavin surely wouldn’t appreciate Nines being back in the field before he was, and considering their relationship was already rocky, Nines didn’t want to take the chance of pissing him off even further.

He didn’t very much like doing nothing and had purposefully delayed the reports needing to be written simply to have something to do. Naturally, the reports stopped at one point, and thus he was left doing just that. Nothing. So he’d taken the liberty of making attempts at getting to know Gavin better. They weren’t friends, far from it, but Gavin appeared to be coming around. He now seemed indifferent to him. Considering where they started off, it was certainly progress, so he couldn’t complain.

Too much had happened in such a short period of time for there not to be.

Gavin was still closed off when it came to his personal life and he no longer saw the use in asking. It wouldn’t get him anywhere. Gavin also learned that he didn’t know about memes and Nines was insulted for ‘not being cultured’ after.

A lot of cat videos followed and he supposed he could see the appeal. Then there were the movies -- usually murder mysteries that both of them had figured out in the opening scene -- so it wasn’t exactly productive. Paws was his usual self and shifted between them for attention. Tina dropped in a couple times, naturally, being a welcome distraction.

All in all, not much had happened.

“The fuck are you doing?” Gavin asked, confusion clear. Nines didn’t realize it was directed at him. “Hey, Plastic Prick 2.0, I’m talking to you!”

“What?” Nines demanded, glaring.

Gavin landed a swift kick on the inside of his furthermost thigh to direct Nines’ attention there. Just as he understood what the fuss was about, he halted the movements of his hand that had unconsciously been massaging Gavin’s shin. Awestruck, he just stared. He’d been refraining from using the butterfly knife to keep his hands busy and this had to be a side effect.

“Can I get my fucking legs back?”

Nines released him. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

Letting out a scoff, Gavin immediately grounded his feet to the floor where they were supposed to be. He gave Nines a look that he couldn’t quite place -- almost a form of confined restraint -- before instead squaring an ankle over a knee. In his peripheral vision, Nines registered him opening his mouth to say something only to tightly press his lips back closed.

“I suggest you find a more preferable position than the one you just demonstrated as a go-to,” Nines added, patting away whatever dirt he could from his pants. “It’s not good for your back.”

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[/45- RA9.exe -45/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

“What I do with my back is my business, dipshit.”

“Just don’t come to me when the damage becomes permanent unless you wish for me to break it back in place.”

“I’ll manage. Any luck with the decryption?”

“It’s a list of red ice dealers and buyers. I’ve made some research and come to the conclusion that a few of them are still in business. Our first target is a regular at Jimmy’s Bar.”

“So that’s where we’re going.”

“Your perception of the obvious continues to amaze me, Gavin.”

Being flipped off marked the end of the conversation. Just in time, too. Nines watched as Gavin was about to rise from the chair and shot a glance over his shoulder to see Fowler ending the call.

They shortly stepped into the office.

Fowler went straight to the point. “I’ll keep this brief. If the documents Nines sent over is legit, you’re looking at that promotion,” he said, Nines not failing to register the hint of excitement touching Gavin’s eye. It really did seem to mean a lot to him. “I have to say, I didn’t expect you two to ever tolerate one another. Professionalism goes a long way. Now get the fuck back to work.”

“Don’t worry, boss. I got it handled,” Gavin replied with a low-effort salute.

* * *

**~ NOV 18TH, 2038 * PM 07:45 ~**

Just as Gavin pushed up the door to Jimmy’s Bar, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes permeated Nines’ nostrils. Rain was ramming on the pavement outside as they took refuge underneath the roof.

The ‘no androids’ sign had been removed, appearing recent, its attached cohesive almost fresh. Not everyone was happy with the consideration that androids were a new species and what happened about a week ago. Things were far from getting back to normal, the news occasionally reporting on it still. Most of the focus was on establishing a cooperative relationship and Markus had been in several interviews. It seemed to be looking up, but Nines couldn’t help but be wary of whatever CyberLife was planning on the horizon.

Nines scanned the patrons. “Looks like our target hasn’t arrived yet.”

“You sure he’ll be here?”

“Positive. He usually arrives between 8 and 9 p.m.”

“Well, fuck. Better make the most of it,” he replied, approaching the bar disk. “Beer. Straight up.”

“You got it, buddy,” Jimmy said.

Not before long, they were seated in one of the couches opposite one other.

Gavin spoke up. “So what do we know about this guy?”

“Dennis Ward,” Nines replied, clasping his hands together at the table. “56 years old. Worked as an accountant -- currently unemployed because of androids -- and has a criminal record as a narcotic supplier.”

“Aces. Another life one of you tin cans fucked up.”

“In this case, it’s for the better,” he pointed out, Gavin unable to deny it. “He’s made several deals with red ice over the years.”

“So we catch him off-guard and grab him. Sounds easy enough.”

“I’m afraid it’s not as simple,” he replied, Gavin frowning at him. “When I interfaced with Connor about a week back, I saw that he encountered Ward during his first visit here. Ward must’ve overheard my predecessor informing Hank that he was assisting the DPD. He’ll certainly be cautious of my similar appearance and can make a reckless decision to bolt.”

“Then why the fuck am I not doing this on my own?”

“He usually arrives with an accomplice or two and is known to grow violent. I’m here if -- as you humans call it -- ‘shit hits the fan.’ I’ve no doubt you can handle yourself, but I’d rather not take any chances.”

Gavin glared. “You got memory corruption, tin can? I told you I didn’t want your protection.”

“...and I told you I didn’t care what you want,” he said, Gavin letting out a scoff as he averted his eyes. “We’re partners. We need to work together.”

“I know that. Doesn’t change that I’ve been working alone for three fucking years. Now I’ve gotta keep your ass alive, too.”

“Although I’m flattered, I’ll do just fine on my own,” he replied, registering Gavin’s mildly annoyed look at his hinted arrogance. “Unlike my predecessor, I was designed primarily for combat. My reflexes are 48 percent more effective than Connor’s. Not to mention that my casing is far sturdier and the common firearm bullets won’t affect me as long as they don’t hit my head or any critical components. A magnetic field captures said bullets and prevents them from bouncing, so you’re perfectly safe in close proximity.”

“So you’re telling me I can use you like a riot shield?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, I might just do that.”

In the background chatter, Nines registered a man making advances on a woman by the bar disk. He didn’t seem to be taking the hint that she wasn’t interested. Nevertheless, it wasn’t their concern.

Gavin thought otherwise. “Hey, jackass. Back off. She said ‘no’.”

“Oh, Jesus. You one of those white-knights expecting to get laid?” the man asked.

This wasn’t going to end well.

“I’m the guy who’s gonna kick your fucking face in if you don’t leave her alone,” Gavin replied, scowling deeply. “Unlike you, I don’t have to intimidate, force or drug anyone to be willing to sleep with me.”

Gavin was drawing attention to them and that was exactly what they didn’t want. If anything, it appeared as if the situation where he got his scar was repeating itself. Gavin simply couldn’t keep his mouth shut and it would certainly give them away. They were here to catch a narcotic supplier, not to start a bar brawl, and yet Gavin just had to let his pride get the best of him.

Or maybe it was his morals.

Nines didn’t have enough data. “Gavin, this is really not the time -”

“Is that so?” the guy replied, pulling away from the woman who looked visibly distressed. “Why don’t you mind your own fucking business, buddy? Walking in here like you own the place.”

“Oh! Oh, _I_ walking in like I own the place?”

Just as Gavin put down his glass and pushed up from his seating, Nines grabbed his wrist.

“Gavin.”

“Looks like your android pet agrees with me.”

“‘Pet’?” Gavin repeated, appearing offended on his behalf. “Big talk from a guy that couldn’t find his ass with both hands.”

“You wanna go?”

“Hardly seems fair considering you look like a fucking twig on legs, but do your worst.”

Then, just as Gavin tore free from Nines’ grasp -- the grasp that Nines had loosened the moment he heard the man refer to him as ‘pet’ -- the guy seemed insecure. Typical. All bark and no bite.

“I suggest you head on home before you embarrass yourself,” Nines commented.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[/44- RA9.exe -44/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

The man shifted, eyes darting. His friend then tugged at his arm.

“It isn’t worth it, man. Look at his scar.”

Although it was brief, he could see the insecurity touch Gavin’s eye at the addition. For someone who appeared so confident, he was anything but. He did an impressive job hiding it.

“Get a _move_ on!” Gavin demanded.

The guy returned the glare. Eventually, he let out a scoff and began to move towards the door. His friend fell into his steps. Meanwhile, Gavin turned his back and approached the woman. Nines watched the troublemakers leave to make sure they didn’t have a change of heart. It seemed to be the case as the guy that Gavin went all-in on took a step forward with murder in his eyes. When Nines pinned him with a stern look, however, he took his warning and reconsidered. He left and business went back to normal.

“You okay?” Gavin asked, the woman nodding. “Shouldn’t be alone out here at this hour. Take my advice and bring a friend next time. These kinds of places attract the worst fucking people.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“You live far from here?”

“I mean, yeah... I guess. About an hour. I walked.”

“Got someone that could pick you up?” he said, but she shook her head. Gavin fished up his phone. “All right, I’ll call you a cab. Don’t worry about the charges. I’ll have it sorted out.”

“No ulterior motives on your part?” she teased.

Gavin puffed a laugh. “No, I’m a cop. This is my job,” he replied, before moving the phone to his ear. “Yeah, hey. I need a cab to Jimmy’s Bar. Thanks.” Not before long, said cab arrived. “I’ll walk you out.” The woman graciously accepted his offer and Nines gave him a mildly annoyed look. “A minute, toaster.”

He knew that Gavin simply wanted to see her safe. Not to mention that this Ward guy could cause a scene, maybe even hurt someone. A lot could happen in a short walking distance and especially to an attractive woman that she appeared to be according to statistics. It was unusual to see Gavin so gentlemanly. Nines came to realize that he was only unpleasant to people that got in his way and people he looked down on -- or was an android, for that matter. With anyone else, he was quite pleasant. Approachable, even.

It was very endearing and Nines didn’t understand why he tried to hide it.

Maybe he was afraid to grow attached. To them, or them to him, as his job certainly put him in dangerous situations. A job you might one day not come home from. Both options were plausible.

Ward arrived shortly after and the arrest went smoothly. Now they had to find out who was supplying him.

* * *

**~ NOV 18TH, 2038 * PM 08:19 ~**

Back in the interrogation room, Nines had no need to join his partner inside. He was reassured that Gavin could easily extract a confession from a human and thus he remained in the observation room as he did. With him was Tina and Chris who had just returned from his temporary leave. As per common police regulations, there had to be at least two other officers to observe an interrogation.

It wasn’t long before the witness was ready to talk.

“He’s quite good at this, isn’t he?”

“Shit, Nines. Don’t let him hear you say that. It’ll go to his head,” Tina replied, smirking.

“As if it hasn’t already,” Chris commented -- with no ill-intent as always -- resulting in Tina’s snicker. “Say what you want about Gavin, but the DPD is fortunate to have him. He can get any witnesses to sing in there.”

“Not to mention he’s probably ecstatic an android isn’t sitting on the other side for once. How’d you find this guy, anyway?”

“His name was listed on an encrypted document from 2027 in Zlatko Andronikov’s file. He was a dealer even back then and has been arrested a couple times for distributing drugs,” Nines replied, hands pocketed. “We found it about a week ago, but it was indecipherable until recently. We were lucky to encounter one of Andronikov’s androids that had the decryption key.”

“So it was a list of red ice dealers?”

“A few buyers, too. Dennis Ward has been the only dealer on said list so far that is still a narcotic supplier to this day. Unfortunately, it’s quite outdated. I’ve already had to strike out over eighty percent of said names. Quite few of them were dead -- some by the hand of natural causes and others not -- the most recent death being a red ice buyer by the name of Michael Graham who was strangled back at the Eden Club for assaulting a Traci. There are a few more names worth investigating, though.”

Behind the glass, Gavin shuffled through Ward’s phone before ending up on a page and pushing it towards him.

_“Care to explain why you got a list of android models?”_

_“I work as a supplier for this guy who used androids as a middle-man. Can’t remember his name,”_ Ward said. _“It went dark a while back and I haven’t heard from him since.”_

 _“Nines,”_ Gavin said, gesturing him in.

Not before long, Nines pushed his palm to the interrogation room control and stepped up to the table.

“Anything?”

Gavin handed him the phone. “You tell me, plastic.”

Doing a quick scan, he had all the information he needed. At first, he thought it was a ruse -- a red herring –- or something insignificant, but it was quite possibly far more useful than he ever would’ve thought.

“I can confirm it’s likely that Mr. Ward is telling the truth,” Nines replied, registering the hint of surprise appearing on Gavin’s face. “As you said, it’s a list of androids of all kinds. I recognize several of their models thanks to the records CyberLife provided me with at the day of my activation. Among them is the HR400 and AP700 that we encountered last week. It’s quite possible they were all Zlatko’s at some point and it seems he took the liberty of attaching trackers to all of them. If they’ve yet to deviate, we can locate them easily.”

“Shit,” he muttered, realizing how big that was.

Nines’ LED flashed yellow as he received a telepathic message from Connor.

_“Nines, are you still at the DPD?”_

_“Yes. Is everything all right?”_

_“Everything is fine. I may have some information relating to your current investigation, though.”_

_“I’ll be right there,”_ he replied, watching Chris taking Ward to a cell before turning to Gavin. “Connor might have something for us. Do you mind? I won’t be long.”

Again not bothering with a word-based response, Gavin gestured him out.

Nines didn’t waste another moment and exited the sliding door. Letting grey eyes search the office, they shortly stopped on Connor standing by Hank’s desk. The two were in conversation and appeared to be busy with their own investigation. Nevertheless, when the latter registered Nines approaching, he notified Connor with a head movement.

Connor immediately straightened his back while his concentrated expression smoothed out into a kind one.

“I’m glad you took me up on my offer, Nines,” he said, turning to face him fully. “Back when I investigated Kara -- the AX400 of Todd Williams -- you’re aware I came across an abandoned house. Its only resident was another android I later found out was going by the name of Ralph. I suspect he’d been abused, and considering the violent nature that would’ve caused such excessive damage, I wouldn’t be surprised if the attackers were taking red ice. We know that people under the influence can become quite unstable. I’d go myself, but my hands are full.”

When Connor reached out, Nines un-pocketed one of his own hands and grasped his wrist. Synthetic skin pulled back. Eyes closed and the information was transferred as seamlessly as always.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^**  
**EMPATHY** WITNESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[/43- RA9.exe -43/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

“I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you, Connor.”

“That aside... it’s good to see you back at the precinct,” he replied, offering an open smile. “I know you haven’t had the easiest time.”

“It’ll take some time to readjust, but I’m ready to do my part. I admit you both have made it more tolerable.”

“Whatever you need, son,” Hank said, gazing at Gavin in dialogue with Tina a distance off. “I take it your partner is still being an asshole?”

“Naturally,” he replied, although he couldn’t ignore the slight progress. “Be that as it may, he now appears -- at the very least -- cooperative. I think indifferent is the best way to describe his standing. There’s still a long way to go, but I’ll continue working with Gavin for quite some time. Perhaps he one day sees us as equals.”

“Any thoughts what you’ll do after this red ice mess is sorted out?”

Nines nodded. “I have a few ideas, yes. I was designed for combat and thus I can never reach my full potential here at the DPD. I’ve no need nor wish to follow CyberLife’s orders anymore, but I’ll most likely sign up in the Department of Defense. Combat is everything I know. I’ll remain with the DPD until this investigation is over and then we’ll see how it all pans out.”

“Just know you’re always welcome here, all right? DPD could always use more cops.”

With that, Nines offered his first genuine -- however small -- smile.

He believed it.


	10. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Enjoying the show, tin can?”_  
>  \- Gavin Reed
> 
> ...in which CyberLife is being shady (nothing new there) and Gavin takes a big step to improve his and Nines' relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Sorry for the almost two-day delay for this update. My mother suffered physical pains on Thursday and an ambulance had to take her to the hospital. I only recently found out that she was going to be fine, so the past few days have been stressful. Wasn't exactly how I expected waking up to my 21st birthday.
> 
> **WARNING!** Graphic depictions of violence... I guess (?) Also a suiciding android (not graphic.) Just a heads-up.

**GAVIN  
~ NOV 19TH, 2038 * PM 03:37 ~**

Breath heavy, he ran. Sweat stung his eyes and the pain yet biting at his shoulder didn’t help. He was getting closer. The bucket of bolts wasn’t far off now and Gavin advanced. He’d lined up his firearm, but the android dipped around the corner of some noodle place in downtown Detroit, not giving him a clear shot. Buildings were packed closely and dark alleyways were in the dozens.

Six days were spent off active duty and only now could he see just how out of shape he was. He’d already started his usual workout routine days prior, but his shoulder was shrieking its disapproval. Although it didn’t physically show, he was feeling it deep in aching muscles. He needed to train in order to get back to his usual prime and had unconsciously been proving Nines right that he should’ve taken those extra days off. Nines was right, Gavin knew that, and yet his pride just had to blur his rationale.

If he compromised himself and was further injured, he’d risk having to stay home for another week. Perhaps even longer.

He was tempting fate -- playing with fire -- as what he was exposing himself to would do more harm than good. Gavin went against his better judgment as he simply couldn’t do nothing while waiting for the wound to heal. Right now, he regretted not listening. Nevertheless, he didn’t accept defeat and did what little he could not to further worsen his own condition.

There was movement up top.

Torn away from the moment, he looked, a masculine silhouette against the yellows and reds of the upcoming dusk. It flew over the intersection of fresh air and another shadowed figure followed.

Speaking of the devil.

 _The roof?_ he mused, baring his teeth. Nines was chasing the other suspect on the roof. _Fucking showoff._

Much like Gavin, Nines was clear on his target’s tail.

Distracted, Gavin barely managed to register the trashcan the ST300 he was chasing sent tumbling before him. He didn’t stop. Palm flat against the surface, he swung both his feet over, a graceful landing allowing him to continue the chase. Pain shot up his arm and he regretted not using his healthy limb as blood pulsed in his ears. Adrenaline keeping him upright, he did his best to ignore the obvious fatigue, forcing wary feet to move ever onwards. Gavin wasn’t about to let her get away that easily.

Traffic was in chaos as the suspect had earlier crossed and forced him to follow. Some of the teenage pedestrians had naturally flicked out their smartphones in an attempt to catch a glimpse of what was going on in hope to make it viral.

The ST300 took another dip around a building and rain was pouring down from the clouded skies. Thinly snow-coated gravel nearly had him trip at the abrupt turn -- feet kicking at the tiny rocks -- yet he kept standing. Gavin almost barged into a pedestrian, cursing as he circled around the guy without losing his pace. Others bolted out of the way not to suffer a collision.

It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. Whatever Zlatko had programmed his Roombas to do, it was effective, each group moving in packs of minimum two. They hadn’t seen the third one before it was too late.

A brief panic ushered as he saw her heading towards a door. He could only hope it was locked.

It didn’t matter.

The swift shoulder-barge by said android sent the door flying, profanities escaping Gavin as he followed suit down the long hallway. A storeroom.

Delicate fingers closed around the neck of a coat stand and the furniture was knocked over. The best he could, Gavin avoided the littered trail of clothes, belts and clothing hangers left in the android’s wake. After a few more dodges and calculated vaults, they reached the end of the hallway, another door knocked off its hinges. The cold November air hit once more.

A figure fell from the sky about thirty feet off, revealing himself to be the AC700 android that Nines had been chasing.

Nines arrived milliseconds after. His combat prowess was on full display as hand-to-hand combat issued between them. The android he’d been pursuing -- this one of the male persuasion -- didn’t stand a chance.

Keeping busy, Nines registered the ST300 about to pass him. With a swift kick at a steam pipe, it dislodged and hissed right before her, halting her movement. Gavin tackled her to the ground. He could’ve easily had her gunned down in the now open surroundings, but violence against androids was now strictly forbidden unless left with no other choice.

Not to mention that they were both under Zlatko’s programming and didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter.

She was subdued by Gavin’s weight atop of her, gun at the ready if she tried something, but things took a turn. Gavin ascended his eyes just in time to see the AC700 with a dislocated arm -- courtesy of Nines -- holding a gun to his own temple.

The gunshot rang out.

He just stared as the android dropped lifeless to the floor, Nines sporting a milder but yet shocked expression. Even the ST300 was visibly distressed. It appeared as if she’d just deviated -- her LED red -- an emotional shock caused by being a witness. Zlatko really was ruthless for programming his androids to rather commit suicide than get caught.

Gavin slapped her in irons. “Call the patrol car. At least we got two of ‘em.”

Putting the last android in the backseat next to the accomplice they caught earlier, he could tell by her guilt-ridden expression that she didn’t want a part in any of this. The line between man and machine had become even more blurred over the past few days. Now when they couldn’t just gun them down anymore, everything got far more complicated. It was only recently he realized just how wrong it was to have an android programmed to do your bidding and Nines was no exception. It had been Nines’ own choice, naturally, but it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Nines had remained tight-lipped about what happened a week back and Gavin couldn’t be sure whether he cared or not. If he did, he wasn’t showing it, and he suspected the removal of his deviancy -- as well as his rebuilt firewalls -- played a part in it. He shouldn’t’ve cared what was going on inside Nines’ head and yet he couldn’t help it.

It was too serious. Something you couldn’t just ignore. Be that as it may, it was also necessary. Nines wasn’t stupid and he knew that.

With androids, along came their naivety, and what happened was probably a thing of the past from Nines’ perspective. Something not worth mulling about. Yet that fear he’d shown -- that helplessness -- suggested differently.

Gavin knew he could just ask and have his answer. Nines didn’t have his life experiences, and thus, Gavin was convinced he was beating himself up over it way more than Nines about the whole ordeal. If he was to ask, it would be for his own benefit. A way to let his mind be at ease and continue on with his life without brewing on it for decades to follow if there was no need for it.

He needed a smoke.

Although the weather had cleared up again, soles still sloshed as he walked. He was soaked, through-and-through, and the cold weather didn’t help. While Nines was making a call, Gavin leaned to an alleyway wall and pushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes. He separated a cigarette from its pack, shoved it between his teeth and grabbed his lighter.

“Oh, come the fuck on,” Gavin grumbled, flicking it to no use.

Too wet. 

“Need a hand?”

“No, I don’t need -” he said, looking up to see Nines holding out the AC700’s detached, prosthetic limb. “Fuck off.”

Failing to hold back a grin, Gavin swatted it away. Nines generously chucked it aside. For being an android, he sure had a shared dark sense of humor. It was one of the things he couldn’t help but appreciate about Nines.

The lighter was useless, though. He shoved it back into his pocket and he wasn’t about to find two dry rocks and grind them together. For now, they had to remain at the scene until the clean-up crew arrived. Just as he’d come to terms with it, he recalled back to the six-day temporary leave and got an idea. Nines had earlier demonstrated that all models of the RK-series had a self-heating function.

Gavin gestured him over. “Hey, tin can. Do your magic.”

With a roll of his eyes, a flame emerged from Nines’ thumb and forefinger. Gavin grasped his wrist and directed it to the end of the cigarette. It took a bit longer than he’d like for it to actually light -- the pack having been wet as well -- but it worked.

He released him and the flame disappeared, followed by Nines pocketing his hand again.

“So what’s your verdict why the tracker didn’t work on the third one?” Gavin asked.

“The obvious answer would be that it was a deviant.”

“Yeah, no shit, but why willingly team-up with narcotic suppliers? Even the tin cans know it’s illegal.”

“Like I once pointed out to Hank, a deviant is like an infant feeling emotion for the first time. They don’t know what to do with them or their newfound free will. I’m convinced deviants would be satisfied with doing just about anything -- even go against the law if required -- as long as he or she was assigned a task that could replace their previous priority.”

 _Direction,_ he repeated Nines’ words, certainly making some sense from a logical standpoint.

Nines pushed on. “We’ll have to expect just about anything from here on out so we won’t be taken off-guard in case the situation repeats itself,” he added, falling into a pause. “That aside, we have to talk about your current condition.” Letting out a scoff, Gavin looked away. “Considering you never fully healed, I register it’s only a matter of time before it gets worse.”

“Oh yeah? Next thing you’re gonna register is my fucking fist in your face.”

“I thought we were past that by now.”

“Look,” he cut him off, pressing the sides of his palms to Nines’ chest. “Just ‘cause I happen to tolerate you enough not to want you dead doesn’t give you the all-clear, asshole. Just do your job and let me worry ‘bout my own well-being, got it? I handle my own just fucking fine. It’s not like I’ve compromised shit ever since we got back in the field.”

“Fair enough, but continue like this and you just might. I fail to see why you’re so inclined to refuse my advice in terms of your health. Not to mention you continuously refuse my -- or anyone else’s -- assistance.”

“Unlike you, I actually _earned_ my place at the DPD. I’m not gonna take any cheap ways out by sending a Roomba to do the dirty work.”

“I’m aware of that, but you were already overworked before you received that promotion.”

“...and? I can’t just sit on my ass. I’ve got more responsibilities now.”

“Your dedication is obvious and Fowler sees that, so someday you’ll have to learn to accept my help. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Okay, fine. When we’re getting shot at, I’ll make sure to throw you in front of me,” Gavin said in sarcasm, receiving an exasperated look in return. He fell into a pause. “If you’re that fucking eager to help, go for it.”

“Thank you.”

Gavin tore his eyes away. “Fucking-A.”

* * *

**NINES  
~ NOV 19TH, 2038 * PM 10:37 ~**

Seated in the passenger seat of Gavin’s car, Nines was busy with a pad when police sirens flickered in his peripheral vision just across the road. He frowned. Nines looked up to see pedestrians having surrounded the area and reporters sticking their microphones in the faces of officers in hope for a comment. He saw none other than Hank and Chris among the attendees.

They were in dialogue behind the police tape and seemed to have been there a while considering their drained expressions. Nines in his machine state couldn’t quite place the feeling that emerged, but there was no use dwelling on it.

“Although I’m certain they have it under control, should we see what’s going on?”

Gavin considered it. “All right, tin can. C’mon.”

Exiting the car, they shortly passed said police tape. Chris saw them first.

“Just in time, sergeant. Another minute and we would’ve given you a call.”

“The fuck is going on?”

“A homicide. Happened about an hour ago,” Hank replied warily, turning to Connor as he stepped outside. “Find anything?”

“Not much. The precision and lack of fingermarks and or fingerprints reveal it’s definitely an android, but I wasn’t able to recognize the model or series. It’s not in my database and must be a newer creation,” he replied, turning to Nines. “Perhaps you can see something I couldn’t. The victim -- a young, married female -- is just inside. I’ll have to warn you, though. It’s... quite unpleasant.”

Not bothering to ask Gavin for permission -- he couldn’t stop him anyway unless Nines was explicitly ordered to -- he crossed the threshold. Nevertheless, Gavin shortly fell into his steps followed by Connor. Hank and Chris remained outside, so Nines couldn’t help but wonder why that was. His first guess was that they knew the victim, but if that was the case, neither would be allowed to investigate the crime scene. Something else must’ve been their reasoning and he was certain he’d find out in the coming minutes.

He did.

The moment Gavin saw her, the reveal seemed to make him uneasy. 

“Fucking hell.”

She was pregnant.

Surely it reminded Hank of Cole and Chris of Damian.

Nines crouched down next to her. As Connor said, it was a young woman -- probably in her early thirties -- who lay in a pool of blood. Several knife wounds were lodged into her stomach that was visibly bigger than her usual weight because of said pregnancy.

“The victim was stabbed nine times,” Connor said.

Reaching out towards her, Nines gently grasped her chin and turned her head his way.

> | **ANALYZING...** |
> 
> BRYANT, DANIELLE  
>  [DECEASED]  
>  * Height: 5.5ft - Current weight: 175lbs (32 pounds added after pregnancy) Estimated usual weight: 143lbs  
>  * Estimated time of death: Nov 19th ~ 09:22 pm  
> 

Connor gave them the debrief. “Danielle Bryant Calhoun. She was well-liked, so I see no reason why anyone would want her dead.”

“Who found her?” Gavin butted in.

“That would be her husband. The suspect was still there when he arrived -- possibly home from work -- but he managed to escape the scene after he was gravely wounded. He had a friend make the call to the DPD and get him to the hospital with the injuries he suffered in said escape. The experience was traumatizing and he’s in shock, so we won’t be able to talk to him just yet. A lot about him is filed under classified and I suspect he was a CyberLife employee. I’ve encountered no other organization who aren’t open about their workers.”

Nines narrowed his eyes. “His name?”

“Lewis. Lewis Calhoun,” he replied, and it all fell into place. Connor cocked his head. “Do you know him?”

It was only when a hand grabbed Nines’ shoulder and practically forced him to look over that he snapped out of it. Gavin. His expression was hard -- serious -- with a hint of annoyance.

“He was there when I was activated.”

“So you know him. Doesn’t explain why the fuck his wife’s dead,” Gavin said.

“When I told you that CyberLife requested my presence to see if all my functions were in order, I was only half-truthful,” he replied as he rose to his feet, Gavin giving him the side-eye. “As you already know, trackers stop working after deviancy and CyberLife knew immediately that something was wrong the moment I suffered that emotional shock. Naturally, they believed I was incapable of deviancy, and had no idea that it also worked as a virus, so they ordered me down to the CyberLife Tower to find out what the problem was.

“Lewis was the only one there when doing a thorough scan of my program and found said virus. The destruction of my unit was inevitable at that point,” Nines added, falling into a pause. “He let me go.”

“...and CyberLife, what, found out and took her life for it?” he asked rhetorically, averting his eyes. “Jesus.”

“CyberLife is obsessed with control. Anyone who gets in their way is basically walking around with a bullseye in their forehead.”

He analyzed the scene.

The door had opened and Danielle had most likely believed it to be her husband. Nevertheless, the android showed itself and visibly distressed her. He’d come at her with the knife. Danielle tried to defend herself, but considering that she was about eight months pregnant, there was little she could do. The android had thrown a chair aside to clear the path and made a ruckus. He advanced, knife at the ready, forcing her to the ground with no effort whatsoever and immediately began driving said knife into her repeatedly.

Nine times, as Connor put it.

When the door flew open again, Lewis had entered just in time to see the life drain from her eyes and the android rising to his feet. Lewis had immediately made a beeline for her in his shock and the android had wounded him.

Curiously, the android hadn’t followed when Lewis bolted out the door to inform the neighbor. He’d been calculated and calm.

“Do you know what model it was?” Connor asked.

“Unfortunately not. He left no evidence aside from the body and knife. Lewis is our only option.”

The lack of data had him conflicted and he recognized the emotion as frustration.

“The DPD is keeping an eye on him at the hospital,” Connor said, turning to Gavin. “If you want, I can have the case transferred to you and Nines.”

Nines took the word. “From what caliber I’ve seen from this android, I’m certain we’ll need both of us.”

“Oh, great. So we’re teaming up with Hank and his plastic pet. I can’t fucking wait,” Gavin said in sarcasm, attention now on Connor. “Send us the files so we can go over ‘em in the morning. Set up a meeting with this guy.”

Nodding, Connor set course for the door to inform Hank.

Nines found himself simply staring at the lifeless body. He’d reconstructed the scene over and over again in his frustration -- seen the event happen time and time again -- and he couldn’t figure it out. Something told him there was more to all this. It seemed as if the android wanted the DPD to discover her body without giving too much away of who he was.

Not to mention that the android’s movements were all-too-familiar to his own.

He couldn’t help but wonder if this was related to him in another way. Nine was also a very specific number as two or three would’ve sufficed. One if he went for a crucial organ.

An RK900?

It was impossible. CyberLife had been ordered to stop production of androids after the demonstration. Nines was a prototype, so if the killer was an RK900, CyberLife had broken the law. Then again, it wouldn’t surprise him. The fact that an RK900 following CyberLife’s orders was on the loose could have disastrous consequences.

Gavin snapped him out of it once more. “You done brooding so we can leave?”

He did one last scan. Nothing.

“I’m done.”

* * *

**GAVIN  
~ NOV 20TH, 2038 * AM 06:24 ~**

Hands protected with padded lightweight gloves -- more manageable than those big, clunky, boxing ones -- Gavin was hammering at a training dummy in a separate training room in his apartment. Testing out techniques. It had been part of his workout routine the past decade, but after the suffered shoulder injury, he had to go easy for a while. Said shoulder was finally starting to get better and now he was going all-in. The musky smell of sweat was in the air as he’d gone at it for almost about two hours non-stop.

He needed to get back into his prime and thus didn’t waste another moment. It was an early morning like always, Gavin preferring to be up and about hours before going to work, and then starting the day off like this.

Naturally, he never got more than four hours of sleep. He was basically running on caffeine and now his body had gotten used to it.

Nines had been glued to the current case since they returned. Pads were littered on the kitchen table, Nines going over them, doing whatever research he could in hope to find out what android had killed that woman last night. Nothing had turned up so far. There was obviously something he wasn’t telling him, but Nines wasn’t one to just throw ideas around until he had sufficient evidence.

Something about ‘wasting time’ with speculation based on nothing.

They’d been partners for almost two weeks now. Despite being a machine, Nines was in his superiority clearly displeased with the fact that he for the first time in his life didn’t have all the answers.

Now Plastic Prick 2.0 knew how humans felt like.

In the glass reflection, he saw a familiar figure arrive to press his shoulder against the side of the doorframe Gavin had his back turned to.

“Enjoying the show, tin can?”

Nines pocketed his hands. “Your technique is awful.”

“Worked for me so far.”

“Considering that we’re now up against a far more dangerous android, I can assure you your luck is going to run out,” he replied, Gavin’s irritation emerging. “You focus more on the power of your blows than actual technique. A muay thai-like combat style. Effective when it connects, to some extent, but only for a time. You’d exhaust yourself too quickly. It’s a death sentence if you ever found yourself fighting more than one opponent, so I suggest you shift said focus to a more krav maga-like approach.”

“I’m trying to fucking _subdue_ the suspects, not kill ‘em.”

“Not all krav maga techniques are critical and thus perfectly viable for the DPD.”

“Oh yeah? Then get the fuck over here. Make yourself useful.”

Nines pushed away from the door. “Suit yourself.”

Having a moving sparring partner for once would be a welcome change. He couldn’t help but be surprised they hadn’t done this earlier. Back then, he’d take any opportunity to kick Nines’ arrogant ass.

Shrugging off his RK jacket and chucking it aside onto a nearby chair, he calmly approached.

Holding his gaze, they circled around one another. Waiting to strike.

“‘Bout time you stepped up.”

Nines arched a brow. “Stepped up to, what, bring your ass to the pavement?”

“Stepped up to spar, dipshit.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised you’d want to do this. I knew you liked it rough. All you had to do was ask.”

“You flirting with me?”

“Anything to throw you off-balance. I’m known to fight dirty.”

“That makes two of us.”

Under the assumption Nines was distracted, he swung. A sidestep. Missed. Nines caught his fist, Gavin’s arm twisted behind his back. He was behind him now. Gavin kicked. Blocked. His mind hadn’t caught up with the situation before lithe fingers closed around his ankle and flipped his entire body. Feet lifted from the ground and his back hit the floor with a groan.

“Dead,” Nines addressed, voice monotone.

When Nines extended his hand to help him up, Gavin smacked it away before jumping back to his feet. He didn’t need any help. Not from an android. Not from a human. Not from anyone.

“You tin cans don’t even have pain receptors, so why should I expect you to fucking react when I hit you?”

“If.”

 _“When,”_ Gavin repeated, voice clearer.

“I’ll react. Pain is easily simulated,” he replied, eye contact never breaking as they again circled. “You might recall that day back in the break room with Connor. He had no reason to double over and yet he did.”

“The fuck do you know about that?”

“Connor’s memories. Try anything like that with him again and you’ll be answering to me.”

Gavin let out a scoff. “Would you look at that? Little Nines protecting his big bro. If you seriously think I’m afraid of you, you’re all outta luck.”

“I know you’re not. Frankly, it’s admirable... or just stupid.”

Nines lunged this time. Blocked. Soon Gavin was ducking, Nines’ attempted strike failing, his confidence returning. He wasn’t so tough. Gavin struck repeatedly -- forced Nines back -- but Nines’ movements were effortless as not a single hit got past his forearm guards. Sweat stung Gavin’s eyes. Hands closed around Gavin’s shin when he attempted a kick, Nines twisting it around, pain seeping up his entire body as he was flipped onto his abdomen with another muffled sound of protest. He spun onto his back to grab the foot coming his way.

With force, Gavin pushed it forward. Nines staggered just long enough for him to get back up on his feet. He was fast, he’d give him that, but he was also light despite his tall build.

“...and you’re supposed to be tough?”

“Don’t get cocky, Gavin. I’m operating at a two-second delay for you to stand a chance.”

Gavin stared in disbelief. “You fucking kidding me?”

Another one of Gavin’s punches hit thin air. He was thrown off-balance, and in a single hip-twist, Nines flipped him onto his back once more.

“Dead,” Nines repeated. “Should I add another second?”

He was flustered now.

“You patronizing piece of shit, I was already worn out when we fucking started!” he bit back, on his feet again to throw in a flurry of punches that was easily blocked. “Two wins doesn’t mean anything, plastic.”

Nines blocked another. “Still calling me that, I see.”

“Trying to guilt-trip me for it?”

“Interesting choice of words.”

“Newsflash. I don’t fucking care. Thought someone as ‘superior’ as you would’ve had that figured out by now.”

“You keep saying that, and yet, I can’t say I’m convinced,” he replied, dodging his latest attack. “I’m not stupid, Gavin. I have eyes. That woman at the bar? You seem to have no issue with people -- or even androids -- as long as they’re not a threat to your position. Something out of your control must’ve happened to make you this resentful. Violence makes you feel powerful, doesn’t it? In control?”

Gavin scowled. “Don’t assume you know me.”

“I _don’t_ know you because you continuously refuse to let me,” he replied, breaking Gavin’s guard that had him add some distance. “I’m trying to understand you better and you’re not making it easy. I like you, Gavin. I really do.”

“You’ve got bad taste.”

“Insecurity, then?”

“Shut your fucking mouth and stop analyzing me.”

“Is that a direct order?”

“Nothing I tell you is an order, _plastic._ You’re your own person, right? Make your own fucking choices.”

He swung again and missed, Nines now behind him, a swift kick at the back of his knee. Gavin hit the floor. His elbow drew sideways with a growl and Nines blocked before twisting it behind his back. Fingers closing around his neck, his chin was tilted upwards with force, Gavin sneering as he met Nines’ unimpressed expression who towered over him.

“Dead.”

Once released, Gavin was back on his feet again.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Nines kept repeating it after every fall, every failed attempt, flaunting his superiority. Gavin didn’t give up.

Again and again, Nines overpowered him, him powerless to stop it. It was embarrassing -- downright humiliating -- but there was something compelling about seeing Nines in his element despite that. Like a mantra, he kept repeating ‘Nines is designed for combat,’ so the fact that he was losing was only realistic.

If only his pride could catch up with that.

Nines made another attempt at an attack. On reflex, Gavin sidestepped, Nines open now. Gavin went for the gut. Arms closing around his waist, he threw Nines, muscle memory at his side as he flew over his back. Gavin turned to see Nines still on his feet and cursed. Nines was on him before he could react, back hitting the wall in a thud, air briefly knocked out of him. His head was thrown forward with the impact and Nines stepped back, preventing the collision with his collarbone, and the concussion that would certainly follow.

Generous of him.

Ascending his foot, Gavin kicked, a brief panic washing over him when Nines grabbed his leg and pulled. His back was reacquainted with the floor, but he refused to submit.

A sweep of his free leg kicked Nines’ feet from under him.

He immediately regretted it.

Nines’ elbow shot right into his ribs, and with a groan, Gavin curled up in pain the best he could with Nines atop of him.

He would’ve been thankful said blow hadn’t landed below the belt if that wasn’t where Nines’ knee had ended up. Nines had caught himself, naturally, but that didn’t exactly ease the pain.

_Why the fuck am I almost hard?_

“Dead,” Nines deadpanned. “Not your best course of action unless this was your intended outcome. You have the strangest turn-ons, sergeant.”

“Your fucking knee had it swollen, asshole. Get the fuck off me!”

Nines graciously rose to his feet, rolling his eyes. “Swelling doesn’t occur before at least two hours after impact unless related to hemarthrosis, and I can assure you, the damage isn’t nearly as bad. Suck it up. Better yet, have someone else _suck it up_ for you,” he replied, falling into a pause. “Despite your less than pleasant nature, I’m determined to make this partnership work.”

Once released, Gavin didn’t bother to rise and pulled his body up to sit. He needed another minute.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t judge people for what they _are,_ Gavin. I can’t change what I am.”

“Real fucking petty, Nines. Thought you were better than that.”

“Did you now? I hadn’t realized.”

“Look. I fucked up, all right?” Gavin exclaimed, pinning him with a glare. His entire body was burning. Palms open, he extended his arms in surrender. “I was wrong. That what you wanna hear?”

It was the closest thing to an apology he could muster.

Nines’ answer wasn’t immediate. “I didn’t expect to... but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

Again, Nines tested the waters. His hand extended. For a moment, Gavin just glared, lips pressing together in a thin line. Every nerve in his body told him to smack it away again. Retain his pride. The other part of him knew that they weren’t getting anywhere if they continued like this. Gavin was acting like a child, he knew that, and now it was time to turn that around.

_Fuck it._

It seemed like Nines was just about to pull back before Gavin grabbed his wrist.

He let Nines help him up.

“Our shift starts in an hour,” Nines added, pulling back and heading for the door. He grabbed his jacket. “You should clean yourself off and get ready. I’ll be in the car when you’re done.”

So they started over as equals.


	11. 313 248 317 - 88

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“He needs to loosen up. Figuratively_ and _literally.”_  
>  \- Tina Chen
> 
> ...in which the killer is revealed, Gavin adjusts to his new rank, Tina makes a brief reappearance, and Nines underestimates what he's up against.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** I was in Spain September 19th-21st and wasn't able to finish the chapter on time because I managed to hit writer's block just before, but traveling got me out of it, so to keep a consistent schedule I'm going to start publishing every _second_ Friday instead of _every_ Friday (basically just another week between updates.) I know you guys appreciate consistency and thus this is my solution. Sorry for the inconvenience. Writing is hard and books take years to publish because of it. Quality before quantity, I suppose. In any case, I hope you enjoy this one before shit gets real.
> 
> **Shout-out** to the amazing ViEwaz who wanted to translate this fic into Русский! Link is on the first chapter of this story as a 'related work.' I can't express how honored I am that someone considered my fic good enough to do such a thing :)

**GAVIN  
~ NOV 20TH, 2038 * AM 07:45 ~**

Gavin trimmed his thumb on the wheel, stereo in his car playing at a low enough volume to allow conversation. Some 90’s rock music he’d heard as a kid that he couldn’t remember the name of nor artist behind.

“You planning to speak up or what?”

About ten minutes into the drive on their way over to the DPD, he’d caved. He could tell Nines had gathered something more about the killer from last night. A mere suspicion, or just a theory, Gavin needed to know. He was aware an android had no need for a brainstorming and yet curiosity got the better of him. Nines preferred to act on certainty, not half-assed facts and half-assed truths, but they had to count on each other. Gavin was ready to finally give Nines a chance and they both had to make an effort.

“About?” Nines asked, attention still on the pad.

“About the fact that you’ve been acting weird ever since that lady was killed.”

Blinking, Nines’ gaze briefly ascended to look ahead of him. His answer was anything but immediate.

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I have,” he replied, snatching the pad from his hands and putting it on the dashboard. “Eyes up here, tin can. Out with it.”

“It’s just a theory.”

“Fuck, it’s better than nothing.”

Nines crossed his arms. “When I reconstructed the scene, I noted certain mannerisms in the attacker’s movements and methods. They were familiar to me and I could nearly calculate his every action taken.”

“So an RK model.”

“An RK900, to be specific.”

Gavin sighed, lips pressing together. “Shit.”

“I don’t know for certain considering what little evidence was left at the scene. Still, it’s an important distinction. If it’s an RK900, we’re dealing with something far more dangerous.”

No doubt. He’d seen Nines go all Terminator firsthand.

“...and now CyberLife got one on the loose acting blindly on their behalf.”

“Like I said... a theory.”

Taking a moment to reflect on it, he couldn’t help but think of earlier this morning. What he himself was suspecting was a long shot, but from what he’d heard and seen from Nines, certainly not impossible.

“That why you interrupted my workout routine this morning? To show me what to expect?”

“Yes,” he replied, always thinking ahead. “There are other models designed for combat -- as you’re well-aware of -- but I’m the most advanced. The RK-series were prototypes designed with specific arsenals unparalleled with anything else. I was to suggest we start sparring on a regular basis to considerably increase your lifespan and hone my own reflexes.”

Although there was a hint of snark in the ‘increase your lifespan’ comment, it was a good call. He couldn’t fault him for that. Gavin would never admit it aloud, but he knew he could only benefit from it.

“Right.”

 _/ “I like you, Gavin. I really do,” /_ Nines’ voice echoed, still leaving him conflicted. It seemed as if Nines was growing attached to him and he didn’t know what to feel about that. At this stage, he no longer held that animosity towards Nines if disregarding the hint of salt. He even happened to enjoy his company after how closely they’d been working together. Now, Nines was just another coworker like any other, but the last thing Gavin wanted to do was grow attached in return. With Nines’ personality, it was difficult not to.

Maybe it was already too late.

The nagging sensation of ‘he’ll fuck me over in a split second’ refused to leave him. Too many people had fucked him over in the past and he didn’t see Nines as any different. He wanted to be wrong.

Flagging it off, Nines spoke up again.

“Another theory -- albeit coexisting with the previous -- is that CyberLife wanted me to see her. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were trying to intimidate and perhaps even frame me.”

“Well, aren’t you special?” Gavin asked, question rhetorical. “I’m your literal alibi, though. You’re in the clear.”

“There’s a low probability they’d succeed, but it doesn’t change that I’m responsible.”

Guilt.

This was all about guilt.

“The fuck were you supposed to do? Let ‘em deactivate you?” he commented, grimacing at someone cutting into the queue before him. He felt Nines’ eyes on him all the same. “It’s not on you that CyberLife got a superiority complex. From where I see it, those Grade-A assholes use fear and emotional manipulation to get their fucked up way. They’re psychotic.”

“I should’ve expected it -”

“Fuck that,” he cut him off, switching his hand on the wheel to get a better angle of him. “With deviancy, you had enough shit to deal with. Move the fuck on and focus on stopping this prick from doing it again.”

Nines held his gaze, a curious raise to his brow. His mouth fell ever so slightly open as if to say something only to close it back shut. There was something soft to his expression, accompanied by confusion, and Gavin was tempted to look away. Yet something kept him pinned. Nines was most likely analyzing him again, so he felt all too self-aware and exposed because of it. Just how much Nines could get out of a reading was almost intimidating. He had nothing to hide, and yet, the look Nines gave him had it seem he did.

“What?” Gavin demanded, having grown impatient.

“I didn’t calculate an argument on your part. Frankly, this would be the perfect timing for another stab at me.”

Letting out a scoff, he averted his eyes. “Well, fuck, I’m full of surprises.”

In his peripheral vision, he could’ve sworn a smug smirk played at Nines’ lips.

“I can see that,” he replied, falling into a pause. “In any case, I suppose you’re right. Thank you, Gavin.”

Gavin was protective by nature -- became a cop because of it -- and he’d become surprisingly protective of Nines despite being an android. He even knew why. Being thrown into the world with his only purpose to kill, he couldn’t help but pity him, finally seeing his perspective in all this. The whole ‘infant feeling emotion for the first time’ comment had him thinking. It was obvious androids were capable of emotion, he knew that now, and the last thing Nines needed was attitude. Frankly, part of him was glad Hank had helped him out.

He wasn’t good with these kinds of things. Emotions. Feelings. Growing up suppressing them, that was no surprise. The fact that he’d reassured Nines like that -- unconsciously -- was surprising even to Gavin.

Nines really was starting to warm up to him.

_Fuck Tina for being right._

She always was.

After ten more minutes of Nines going over the files for the hundredth time, they’d finally arrived at the hospital. Lewis was to stay there for a couple more days before he was transferred to a more secure place. In a matter of moments, he’d lost everything, and Gavin was nothing but thankful he wasn’t there to break the news as Lewis already knew. It was one of the worst parts of the job. During his over ten years at the DPD, he’d seen his fair share, one homicide more brutal than the other.

Despite all that, this was probably the most brutal one.

“I got this,” he said, turning to Nines. “If it really was an RK900, last thing we wanna do is give him a heart attack when you walk in. Guy probably thought you did it. I’ll fill you in when I’m done.”

When Nines nodded in agreement, Gavin entered.

Lewis sat hunched in a chair, facing the window, the slump in his shoulders only belonging to a man who’d lost everything. Gavin had no sympathy for CyberLife or their employees and yet he couldn’t help but make an exception. Not only losing his wife, but an unborn child, was something no one should have to go through. He could tell his expression was tight.

Gavin cleared his throat to notify him of his presence. “Lewis Calhoun, I’m from the DPD. Gavin Reed. This might not seem like the best time, but I’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened.”

“Go ahead,” he replied, turning to face him. Bags under his eyes revealed he hadn’t slept. “Whatever information I can give, I’m willing.”

His cooperativeness was a good sign. Although he could tell this sure didn’t bring him any joy, he saw the importance of it, open for questioning. Revenge was certainly part of it and Gavin would’ve wanted the same had it happened to him.

He took a seat in the chair opposite him.

“All right, start from the top.”

“Yeah, sure,” Lewis said, rubbing his wrist. “I’d just come home from work when it happened. Right before me, he... fuck, you saw her. I arrived just in time to see the life drain from her eyes and the figure standing over her. Dressed in all black, mostly, but his face wasn’t covered. Android. His uniform read RK900 -- probably an upgraded version of the RK800 the news reported was deployed to your apartment -- but I can’t be sure.”

It was obvious he was covering up his workplace. In any case, now he knew Nines was right. Another RK900.

_Fuck._

Things just got a lot more complicated.

“I know you work for CyberLife,” he addressed, Lewis’ eyes briefly going wide. “It’s classified, I get it, but my partner’s been on the inside. We think CyberLife orchestrated it.”

Lewis frowned. “No, it was a deviant. I saw him about a week prior to all of this.”

So he did think it was Nines.

“You were tasked to reapply a tracker in one of your androids after it went dark at November 10th. Another RK900. He was sent to the CyberLife Tower in order to get it done the day after and you let him go despite being deviant,” he addressed what he knew, watching Lewis’ face fall ever so slightly. “You think that’s the one who did it, right? I’m an alibi to prove otherwise.”

Brief alarm washed over Lewis’ features and he shifted.

“No, that... that’s impossible,” he replied, scrounging up his face. “CyberLife never deployed more than one RK900 unit -- the prototype that I was in charge of -- and the others were never fully developed. #313 248 317 - 87 is the only model there is. The State Department canceled their order, had us stop production of any more androids, so it must’ve been him.”

“Yeah, well, CyberLife kept at least one model behind your backs. All I know is that it wasn’t Nines,” he replied, Lewis seeming uncertain whether to believe it or not. “Hell, you saved his life. Doesn’t make any sense that he’d come after you unless he was to tie up loose ends.”

He seemed to think it through.

“So you’re saying CyberLife set this up because I helped him?”

“Sure as hell seems like it. They might be after Nines, too. Put him in his place for going light side.”

Lewis sighed and averted his eyes. “Fuck, I never should’ve taken this job.”

“As for the DPD, your assistance is invaluable. You’ve been in restricted areas in CyberLife and can help us better understand how they operate. I get they don’t tell you everything -- what happened is proof of that -- but any information helps. The entire precinct is keeping an eye out for this android and right now it’s our highest priority to catch the asshole.”

“If CyberLife already has me on their dead pool, I don’t see why not.”

He had nothing more to lose.

Gavin looked down. “Doubt it’ll ease your mind, but we’re doing everything we can. Chances to catch this guy are a bit higher considering we’ve got another RK900 on our team to help us out.”

“I take it you were the detective he was assigned to.”

“Figured it best he stay outside.”

“Even if it’s not... ‘Nines,’ I don’t think I could bear looking at him,” he replied, Gavin nodding in understanding. “I was so fucking sure.”

“Androids perfectly mimic other androids, but I guess you know that better than anyone.”

“Just RKs’,” he replied, Gavin giving him a confused look. “Right, I forgot the entire series is classified. Can’t say I give a damn at this point.”

“Wait, so they’re not just... detective units?”

Lewis shook his head. “Far from it. They were designed as part of a spy program,” he replied, Gavin’s back straightening. “Your department worked with the RK800 as well as the 900, and the 200 had this entire demonstration succeed, so their arsenals are pretty fucking large -- mimic voices, change certain features, hacking abilities, preconstruction, and reconstruction, so on and so forth.”

Although it felt wrong to ask -- especially now -- this might be his only opportunity to.

“You were my partner’s operator, right? Probably know all ‘bout him,” he said, Lewis nodding. “DPD didn’t exactly give me a full debriefing on what Nines can do. Got something else for me that could help speed up the process?”

“RK900 is our most advanced prototype. I’ll spare you the whole ‘faster, stronger, more resilient’ shebang. You get it. Considering he’s RK800’s successor, it’s pretty obvious, or we wouldn’t be doing our jobs. Doesn’t know shit about morals or emotions, though. I reckon the entire ordeal has him confused as fuck now when he’s deviant. Unstable,” he replied, falling into a pause. “I have to admit I don’t very much like he’s got free will. He’s dangerous and part of me regrets letting him go like that. Maybe that makes me a bad guy, I don’t know, but... fuck.”

“He did have free will, but only for a time. Nines made the choice to rebuild his firewalls at Kamski’s for the same reason.”

His face twisted in confusion. “He did what?”

“Free will scared him off.”

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Lewis muttered, averting his eyes to stare out the window. “After his activation, his operator -- his previous one, that is, before his retirement -- had him kill two YK500 units. I walked out before he could. Heard he didn’t even flinch.”

 _/ “People can change, detective,” /_ he recalled Nines’ own sentiment about a week back.

Nines was right. He had changed.

They both had.

Lewis pushed on. “In that case, you should know RK800 was designed for flexibility while the RK900 is more of a tank. Can’t say I know anything about the RK200. Kamski is the only one that does. We went all-in with these guys. 900 can still self-destruct under stressful situations -- he deals with it better than anyone, though, never supposed to pass the fifty mark. Any higher and his program doesn’t know how to deal with it. Back at CyberLife Tower, I did some testing, and he pushed towards a hundred. Couple more seconds and he would’ve been gone.”

Knowing that Nines had been scared enough to be at the brink of self-destruction left a bad taste in his mouth.

“He was designed without a dormant deviancy code so we had full control over him,” Lewis added, continuing his debriefing. “Any android can trigger an emotional shock and deviate another, but it’s about the ability to effectively persuade and convey a message, something that not all are capable of doing. It’s a taught skill. Only the RKs’ had that skill from the get-go and that’s why other androids weren’t a threat. You can imagine why CyberLife was that fucking determined to put an end to Markus who had discovered that ability.

“We didn’t know androids could copy and paste the code into 900, though. Looks like his antivirus could only rebuild his firewalls and slow down the process without stopping it. I don’t know the exact number, but 800 had fewer firewalls, while 900 had fifty. We took every precaution there was, but obviously it wasn’t enough. 900 never should’ve been able to deviate.”

“Seeing how all this shit went down -- CyberLife unknowingly selling off thousands of dormant deviants -- it wasn’t their first slip-up.”

“Tell me about it. I could give you his deactivation code, though. A backup in case shit hits the fan.”

Gavin shook his head. “Not necessary. I got Nines handled,” he replied, rising from the chair and handing him a card with his number. “Thanks for the info. If you remember anything else ‘bout last night, give me a call.”

* * *

**NINES  
~ NOV 20TH, 2038 * PM 02:27 ~**

What came with Gavin’s new rank was the supervisions of officers, maintaining the chain of command, the development of training programs for the personnel, directing special units, preparing special projects, preparing special reports, reviewing other reports and assigning the needed personnel with specific needs, so there was little time for much fieldwork these days. Nines co-worked with him to reduce the strain it put on his shoulders with Fowler’s permission and the precinct had never been busier.

They spent a lot of time in the meeting room.

Although he proved helpful in all of the above, Nines was especially helpful when it came to the training program for said personnel. Especially now with the other RK900 on the loose.

“Nines’ an RK900, so you might mix the two up. Point one -- keep your distance unless I’m right fucking there and you know it’s my partner. Nines,” Gavin debriefed, gesturing him over. He pressed the side of his palm to the base of Nines’ collar. “Point two -- look for this turtleneck tear. Plastic Prick 2.0’s been too stubborn to have it changed since day one at the precinct.”

“To my defense, I don’t have much of a choice but to keep it. Besides, you were the one who had it torn.”

“...and it paid off. Couldn’t tell you apart otherwise,” he replied, registering Tina rolling her eyes in the background. “Point three -- whatever you do, don’t interact. Point four -- call me or Nines immediately. Point five -- don’t be a hero. Chances are you might end up in a tight spot anyway, be forced into conflict, so that’s why Nines is here. He knows how an RK900 thinks better than anyone and can at the very least give you a couple pointers for a chance to actually make it out alive. Once you get a chance, bolt, avoid further conflict. Point six -”

Gavin trailed off “...I’m on six, right?”

“Yes.”

“Just making sure you’re paying attention, tin can,” he replied, Nines seeing no reason not to believe him. “Point six -- forget close combat. Reflexes are too quick, movements too unpredictable, so a firearm’s your best friend. You’ll break your knuckles otherwise. They’re armed to the teeth with plating far sturdier than the common housemaid droids and handgun bullets won’t do shit if you don’t know where to aim. Unless you’ve got a rocket launcher, tank, or a cannon up your ass, aim for the head or thirium pump regulator.”

When Gavin first poked Nines’ temple with his finger to show the location, he didn’t mind.

It was only when Gavin’s hand dropped to his heart regulator that he harbored a different reaction. Nines froze. His processors went haywire if only briefly and his self-defense protocol would’ve activated if he hadn’t filed Gavin under non-hostile.

The man in question noticed, confusion spreading on his features to look at his hand. Realization dawned.

Gavin took it back. “Sorry.”

Nodding as he accepted the apology, Nines felt himself relax a bit more. He trusted Gavin enough to allow it despite everything and thus he didn’t know why he reacted like that in the first place. Some people had called him naïve, and maybe they were right, but that didn’t change anything. He knew enough about Gavin to consider him someone with good intentions. Not to mention that Gavin wasn’t stupid and it was obvious that he knew just how wary Nines was when it came to his heart regulator after what happened.

The debriefing ended shortly after, officers retreating to their schedule. Some remained to ask questions, Gavin informing them that he’d be there to answer them for ten minutes, then having to get back to his usual routine. He really fit into his new rank and had a leading quality about him unparalleled with anything else he’d ever seen. It was quite impressive.

A familiar, feminine hand pulled Nines aside. “Did someone put drugs in my coffee or did _Sergeant_ Douchebag just apologize?”

“I suppose he did.”

“Holy shit,” Tina said, grin emerging. “The fuck’s your secret?”

“Snark and the power to choose to put salt instead of sugar in _his_ coffee,” he replied, pocketing his hands.

“The former? I got plenty of that. The latter... not so much. I never have and never will prepare that asshole’s coffee, so he’d grow suspicious if I tried serving him one. Stellar idea, though. Fear works wonders,” she replied, her easy grin fading into a fond smile. “I knew you guys were bound to click once Gav started seeing you as a person.”

“True, our work ethic is quite similar.”

“I meant in the non-platonic term, but sure, that works,” she murmured behind her coffee, giving him a wink. “Fuck, I’d pay to see you seduce him.”

“That’s an amusing concept. About a week back he threatened to kill me.”

“He needs to loosen up. Figuratively _and_ literally.”

“I’m aware Gavin has a tendency for making nightly visits thanks to my sensors and analytical abilities, but I can’t say I understand the general concept of human courtship.”

“Not without experience, my friend. Unless you’re aromantic and that’s totally cool. Got a sex drive?”

“As in a hard drive? Certainly.”

“Oh, har-har.”

One of his favorite things about Tina was her forwardness. She spoke her mind. Nines himself was very direct as it restricted misunderstandings. That aside, it was only recently that he started to take other peoples’ feelings into consideration. These days, he still spoke his mind, but decided to remain quiet was it something unpleasant and not crucial. Then again, agitating Gavin never failed to amuse him. He kept his snark in that case. Nines never lied, though. Not to his coworkers.

Everything surrounding relationships and sex was intriguing to him -- leaving him curious about both -- so it was something worth exploring. Frankly, Nines hadn’t thought much about it. He was so occupied these days that it simply never crossed his mind. Now when it was nonchalantly brought up as a topic of discussion, however, he was unsure.

Nines simply didn’t know.

“In all honesty, I’m not certain. I have insufficient data on the subject and have yet to develop an opinion.”

“We need to get you into the dating life, Nines. Try Tinder.”

“Absolutely not,” he deadpanned, Tina’s snicker following. “I can’t help but feel guilty for disregarding everything but the current case. I’ve yet to ask how you’re adapting to the new regime.”

“I’m doing all right despite working under Gav’s hardass supervision. This entire training routine is probably gonna kill me, though. I hate training.”

“How so?”

“Aside from the pure bliss of being lazy with a bag of chips and my favorite show... bad experience. Broke an ankle in third grade and have been begrudgingly trekking ever since. I hold grudges.”

“Against the trainers?”

“Against the 20-something pounds hooked off the pole that smashed it! Nearly had to go to therapy for believing it was sentient.”

Nines frowned. “You did bench-press in third grade?”

“Nah, I just stood next to it. Wrong place at the wrong time. Come to think of it, I probably should’ve called it in to the manager for faulty equipment. Suppose it’s too late now unless he’s feeling generous. Shit, he could be dead for all I know. Pretty sure he was already well up in his sixties back then. One of those ‘respect the equipment and the equipment will respect you in return’ types. Total cuckoo.”

“In that case, you’re in luck. The training will be more sparring and reflex centered.”

“Once again you remind me you’re one of my favorite people. Robert won an arm-wrestling match two weeks back. Time for payback.”

“Never change, Tina.”

“Me? No fucking way. I’m living my best life,” she replied, toasting her coffee. Tina gazed at Gavin and took a more concerned tone. “Keep an eye on my boy for me, all right? Asshole is gonna work himself to death otherwise.”

“I’ll do my best -”

“Hey, plastic, stop hitting on the clientele!” Gavin was heard over the room.

Tina arched an unimpressed brow. “Clientele?”

“Fuck, you are now,” he replied, attention on the pads before him. “You’ve yet to pay me back for that coffee you’re holding. You know, the one you stole from my fucking desk because you couldn’t bother to get one in the break room.”

“That cheap shit? Hell no. The coffee you buy is way better -- and you left it unsupervised -- so deal with it.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how you talk to a superior officer.”

“Superior in what? I still beat you in _Mario Kart!”_

“Low-fucking-blow, Ti. Even for you,” he replied as he looked up, her gloating as she stuck out her tongue. “Can I get my partner back or what?”

She pursed her mouth. “Dunno. Maybe I’ll keep him. If it was Nines’ coffee, he’d let me have it.”

“It’s true,” Nines butted in, releasing one of his hands from its pocket to pull a willing Tina in for a hug that she gladly responded to. “As a matter of fact, I’d very much enjoy being Officer Chen’s partner.”

“Then ask for a transfer,” he replied, brow arched. “You don’t even drink, dipshit.”

Tina shrugged. “My point stands.”

“Last thing I need is you two ganging up on me, so Nines, get a _move_ on. That’s an order.”

> **OBJECTIVE:** RETURN TO GAVIN  
> 

“He’s jealous,” Tina whispered in jest, patting Nines’ shoulder before pulling away. “We can catch up later when grumpypants over there doesn’t have his panties in a twist. See you later, Nines.”

Left to his own devices, he approached Gavin as he shuffled through the pads.

“I’m certain I can squeeze in another hug for you, sergeant.”

“Follow through and you’ll be needing repairs,” he said, pushing the pad into him. Nines pulled it from his chest -- rolling his eyes as he did -- before he directed his gaze to the display. “Training program. That good enough for you? Fowler wants the full thing tomorrow by 3 meaning that I’ve only got 24 hours to make changes, so if anything’s off, speak up.”

He did a scan.

“Perhaps you should throw in some breath-holding exercises. Restrict movements of one’s body to maintain a still posture. RK900s can’t see you if you’re standing still.”

Gavin stared in disbelief. “You fucking serious?”

“No,” he deadpanned, Gavin’s exasperated sigh his only response when he gave it back.

* * *

**~ DEC 22ND, 2038 * PM 5:54 ~**

32 days. 32 days and there had been radio silence about the RK900 that killed Lewis’ wife. There had been a couple reported sightings, but every time they arrived, there was nothing.

That was about to change.

_“Nines, c’mere a second.”_

Connor.

They’d been working closely with both Connor and Hank. Although part of him got to know them through Connor’s memories, it was different to interact with them directly, and he quite enjoyed the experience. They were the ones he’d become the closest to. At some point, he’d leave for the State Department, and he was certain he’d miss them as well as Tina and Chris. Even Gavin.

Although he was yet referred to as ‘plastic’ and ‘tin can,’ it was out of habit, and Gavin had dropped the more severe insults. He found himself being referred to as ‘Nines’ more than anything these days.

It was a welcoming change.

They’d been partners for a month now, and yet, Nines couldn’t help but feel that he didn’t belong. It was as if there was nothing there to keep him back. Like it wasn’t enough. Frankly, he’d never felt like he belonged anywhere apart from on the battlefield. Before he was introduced to deviancy, he’d never had any thoughts like this, but now they kept reappearing. He could feel albeit weakly and there were some emotions that he didn’t understand. The sense of belonging, love, happiness, and many more. It was all too confusing.

All his life, he’d only known violence, and anything else was a far cry to leave him conflicted. There had to be more to being alive.

With a refill of Gavin’s coffee, Nines stepped out of the break room and headed directly for his predecessor. Gavin could wait. When he approached, Hank was calmly talking on the phone not too far away. Connor immediately saw him and was about to offer his chair, but Nines held up a hand to stop him, settling for the desk instead. Connor pushed said chair aside to make space.

“I take it you’ve found something.”

“Midtown district,” Connor replied, directing his attention to the terminal. “A woman reported seeing a unique model. Grey eyes, dark brown hair, over six feet and sporting dark clothing. The description was close to what Lewis Calhoun addressed.”

“Have you spoken to her?”

Connor shook his head. “Not yet. Hank is currently on the phone with her to arrange a meeting and provide us with more details.”

Nines couldn’t help but recall back to the CyberLife Tower and voiced his thoughts.

“I realize yours and my own appearance is quite similar, but does a direct copy feel more intrusive as I imagine it doing?”

“I take it you refer to Sixty. I admit it was unpleasant.”

“...and fighting him?”

“Challenging. I had never gone toe-to-toe with someone with the same skillset as my own. Sixty’s movements were unpredictable and there was little use in pre-constructing my actions because of it. I’m uncertain if I would’ve succeeded was Hank not there,” he replied, falling into a pause. “Despite all that, I... hope you won’t encounter a similar situation. According to what you’ve told me, I suppose Sergeant Reed would have more difficulties dealing with such an event if you found yourself at the other side of the barrel.”

With that, Nines directed a discreet glance his partner’s way.

Gavin sat on his desk surrounded by datapads, feet still kicked up on the table. He had yet to take Nines’ advice on choosing a better position for his back. At this stage, Nines probably had to go out and buy a subscription for painkillers. Once Gavin got that sergeant badge, they spent a lot of nights at the precinct, Gavin close to working himself to death on more than one occasion. His dedication became more and more apparent as time passed. Although he appreciated said dedication, something about it didn’t sit well with him.

“Honestly, I’m not quite sure,” Nines replied, an uncertain frown on his face. “Considering his now cooperative -- almost pleasant -- behavior, I’ve no idea whether or not I’m mainly a means to an end. Gavin Reed is... complicated. Yet I can’t help but be thankful I was assigned to him. I can tell there’s more to him than the abrasive image he presents himself as.”

“He clearly holds a profound dislike for me -- not nearly as bad as it once were -- but I spoke with Officer Chen earlier and she seems to believe he sees you in a far more positive light.”

“I’ve noticed certain things, but the insufficient data on not knowing my standing with him isn’t ideal.”

“Although still... unpleasant... he was quite different before Hank’s son died.”

Nines squinted. “I was unaware. Cole Anderson died three years ago. How do you know this?”

“Let’s just say that Hank has shared quite a few things in several of his drunken stupors,” he replied, smirking in amusement. “From what I’ve gathered, Sergeant Reed has difficulties in trusting people. I know very little of it, but Hank managed to let it slip that Gavin had a difficult childhood and that not even he knew the details of it. Hank assume his mother had been absent as he never met her and Gavin never spoke of her. His father, however, worked at the DPD. It appears as if Hank took a more fatherly role after a fallout between them.”

“I suspected they knew each other on a personal level.”

“Certainly. Hank saw him as a second son, but then Cole died and everything went downhill. Hank doesn’t know why and I’ve no wish to risk my neck bringing it up to the sergeant, either. It’s none of my business.”

Not having heard their conversation, Hank approached. “All right, she’s willing to meet up in an hour. Had a couple things to take care of first.”

“Thank you,” Nines said, rising from the desk.

“Good luck, son.”

He nodded. Pushing through the various desks, he approached the one he was best acquainted with on the near far end. Considering how much time they’d earlier spent in the field, Nines never got his own desk, sharing office space with Gavin. He didn’t seem to mind it too much the past few days and thus it served no purpose to get his own.

Besides, Nines preferred being elevated by either standing on the floor or sitting on said desk. It gave him a better view of the precinct. A perspective of which he felt he had more control of everything happening around him.

Nines held the coffee out to him. “There’s been a reported sighting in the Midtown district.”

“What, your long-lost twin?” Gavin asked, accepting it. “You’re gonna have to wait. I got a debriefing in ten.”

“You can’t honestly expect him to remain there until you’re done.”

“I don’t. Every report so far has been a waste of time. I know this shit’s personal to you, but this,” he replied, waving the pad he was holding. “This could save the rookies if they’re ever unfortunate enough to go toe-to-toe with that guy.”

“I’ll go myself.”

The cup stopped halfway to his mouth. “The hell you are.”

That got his attention.

“If your assumption is that this is a waste of time and he won’t be there, I can’t say I see the issue.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Exactly.”

Cursing, Gavin kicked his feet down from the table. “Fucking hell... wait here.”

He put the coffee aside.

> **OBJECTIVE:** WAIT  
> 

Rolling his eyes, Nines transferred his weight to his other foot and pocketed his hands. He averted his gaze to see Fowler’s office door swing open and Gavin stepping inside for them to exchange a few words. Requesting a new time and date for the debriefing, most likely. From the looks of things, Fowler didn’t seem to be budging, Gavin pacing the room. He might’ve gotten another time hadn’t it been on such a short notice. Then again, they hadn’t known about it before now, and thus it was deemed difficult for a schedule change.

All Nines knew was that he needed to get out there, meet with this woman, and catch the RK900 if possible. Sooner rather than later. There had been no more reported homicides of the same android, but caution never hurt anybody.

For all he knew, it might already be too late.

Nines attempted a step.

A red wall appeared before him, the word WAIT in capitalized letters taunting him. His programming ground him into a halt.

He pressed his lips together as his eyes closed shut. At this point, he could see the appeal of free will, wanting little more than to step outside the building and track down the android too dangerous to be left unsupervised. Even if he wanted, he couldn’t. His software instability was too low. Neither did he want to return to his deviated state.

He refused.

After what felt like forever, Gavin returned.

“No can do, plastic. Debriefing’s set in stone and Fowler is being an ass about it. We’re gonna have to pass this one.”

About to protest, he hesitated. No longer having an objective he was forced to obey -- his previous having been carried out -- he could easily slip away. Still, it didn’t feel right to go behind Gavin’s back like that. Although it left a bad taste in his mouth to simply try to forget the android was out there, the last thing he wanted was to create more conflict now when things were finally looking up between him and Gavin. Nines liked where they were and didn’t want to mar that. Selfish, perhaps, but that didn’t change that Gavin might be right.

Checking it out might be nothing more than another waste of time.

“Fair enough. After you’re done here, I still wish to investigate. Albeit a low probability, he may have left something behind that’s worth our attention.”

Gavin sighed. “Look. Do whatever the hell you want,” he said, arms wide and palms open. “I’m not your keeper.”

That took a load off his shoulders.

“In that case, I’ll give you an update when I’m there.”

“Yeah, you do that,” he replied, setting course for the meeting room. Gavin looked over his shoulder. “Hey, tin can. Watch yourself out there. I’ve got enough paperwork to deal with to add damaged equipment to the pile.”

Nines smirked. “I’ll do my best, but I appreciate the concern.”

With that, Gavin flipped him off.

He didn’t deny it.


	12. Family Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Use your fucking head, Gavin. These corporate assholes are gonna ruin you if you speak up now.”_  
>  \- Hank Anderson
> 
> ...in which Gavin's past comes back to haunt him.

**GAVIN  
~ DEC 22ND, 2038 * PM 7:02 ~**

Stepping out of the meeting room, Gavin took a sip of his coffee only to find out it’d gone cold. He grimaced down at it. This cheap shit was bad enough at the ideal temperature, so lo and behold, go figure it was way worse in its current state. If the DPD didn’t invest in a better coffee brand soon, he’d do it himself. He needed it now more than ever.

Gavin approached his desk without looking up from the pad in his hand. For the past ten years, he’d been able to navigate the precinct with his eyes closed, throwing the cup of coffee he’d begrudgingly knocked back like a shot glass into the recycling bin. Fingers ghosting over the other pads lying on the surface of said desk, he double-checked when his next debriefing was. Fifteen minutes. Breaks between debriefings were the closest thing to breathing room he could afford with his new rank.

When he was ready to set course for the break room to get another coffee -- only thing keeping him awake at this point as he hadn’t slept for maybe three days -- he saw the looks directed his way.

Said looks were immediately directed elsewhere as if anything in the room was remotely more interesting.

His brows furrowed.

Gavin gave his coworkers the side-eye before throwing down his pad and approaching Tina in dialogue with Connor.

“Who the fuck died?”

Tina and Connor had already registered his presence and shared a look -- they’d been gazing his way, too, like he was a fucking tourist attraction -- the former’s features being just a hint softer than the latter’s.

Sure, Gavin regretted how he’d been treating Nines’ predecessor, but the last thing he was going to do was apologize.

Maybe one day. Small steps.

Connor fidgeted with his coin. “I’ll... leave you to it. I’m sorry, sergeant.”

When Connor left them to their own devices, Gavin arched a half-exasperated and half-amused brow at Tina.

“Did Hank’s plastic pet seriously just apologize for talking to you? Like he’d need my fucking approval?” he asked and let out a scoff. “Over a month working at this place and he’s yet to grow a backbone.”

“Not exactly. He just doesn’t know what to say.”

Gavin sighed, all-too-tempted to roll his eyes. “‘Bout what?”

Biting into her bottom lip, Tina hesitated before handing him the pad she was holding. His eyes fell to it for his frown only to deepen, glaring back at her before snatching it out of her hands. His eyes landed on the recording of a news broadcast that had aired a few minutes ago. He’d been too busy with the first wave of his debriefings to see it.

> Rosanna Cartland was the news anchor _“...just in today, a man was found guilty for the murder of an FBI agent,”_ she reported, images of a familiar neighborhood appearing on-screen. He couldn’t quite place where he knew it from. _“The incident occurred an entire 32 years ago in Birmingham and has remained a mystery until now.”_  
> 

Birmingham?

That was where he grew up.

Gavin’s body froze solid as the headshot of the assailant appeared on-screen. Bushy grey beard, short hair, worn tattoos on both arms.

It was his father.

> _“Supposedly, the victim carried crucial information, the killer disposing of him before said information could be shared with the state. Espionage is rumored to be at play and the assailant will likely end up on death row for such a heinous crime. In respect of his family and to not involve them in these trying times, the DPD has refused to share a name -- first or last -- with the public. We’ll further report once we have more information. This is Rosanna Cartland and you’re watching KNC news.”_  
> 

Head spinning, Gavin found himself unable to look away from the screen. Memories came back to hit him like a truck. Tina’s mouth was moving -- concern on her face -- but he couldn’t register her words.

This wasn’t right.

* * *

**~ OCT 5TH, 2006 * AM 01:10 ~**

_Paper plane in hand, a four-year-old Gavin made engine noises as he flew around his father’s office. Mr. Reed had confiscated the rubber bands as Gavin had accidentally managed to destroy three vases in two weeks, and his toys were uninteresting, so he chose to improvise. Yet, it was boring. His mother wasn’t home -- naturally -- but Gavin rarely even saw her anyway._

_He’d been sent off to bed by his sitter, but he wasn’t tired, and thus he decided to explore his father’s office instead. He got distracted quickly when he found one of his paper airplanes on the way._

_Elevated once he climbed up on his father’s desk for the takeoff, off in the distance, an interesting sight caught his eye. His father’s gun. The owner of said gun did practice shooting every morning and it seemed that he’d forgotten to lock the display case. Gavin had never held it before and thus he settled for rubber bands, but now, even they were gone._

_“Whoa,” he said in awe, paper plane forgotten on the floor._

_Gavin jumped down from the desk and approached. He tried to reach for it, but it was too high. A pout followed before he bolted for the office chair. Lining it up under the display case, he spun it around, climbing up with little effort. He used the same technique when getting to the higher shelves where he knew his father stored his favorite snacks. Picking it up, he grunted, realizing how heavy it was. The metal was cold to the touch and was well-polished. For his father to so effortlessly hold it, he must’ve been really strong._

_“Smi... Smith,” he tried reading the inscriptions, scowling down at it. Words were hard. He registered a strange ‘ &’ symbol that looked like the number 8 and thus that’s what he called it. “Smith 8 We –wess...on. Smith 8 Wesson.”_

_He didn’t know what it meant._

_Going into the room next-door, he lined the gun up -- proving hard considering how heavy it was -- and aimed for the target that he’d seen his father shooting at before. A dummy riddled with bullet holes. To some, they seemed wealthy, but what they didn’t know was that said training room was the only thing his father had bought for himself. He wasn’t a big consumer when it came to money. The rest went to Gavin, getting nearly everything he pointed at, his father saving up to things that they couldn’t afford at the time of Gavin’s request._

_Gavin put his finger on the curved piece underneath the barrel and pushed. Nothing happened. It was stuck, it seemed, and Gavin tried again. Nothing. He’d seen his father use the gun, so he thought he knew how it worked._

_There was a button on it, on the grip, and Gavin tried to push it. He wasn’t strong enough. There was also a switch, and that one he managed to turn, a red light appearing beneath. The capitalized word ‘DANGER’ was written in said light. Gavin lined it up again and tried to pull on the curved piece again. Again, nothing happened, and frustration emerged._

_Maybe his father could help._

_Face lighting up, he made a beeline for the exit._

_His father was talking with a man downstairs that Gavin knew as ‘Carter Wells.’ He was a friend of his._

_“I’m sorry,” Wells said, voice muffled but sincere. “You were at the wrong place at the wrong time and now there’s a need for damage control, ‘cause ‘wrong place at the wrong time’ ain’t gonna cut it.”_

_Gavin’s father took a step forward. “For fuck’s sake, Carter. I could lose my family because of this.”_

_“Look. You know I have a son on my own and Kayleigh is expecting a little girl, but this? This entire situation is too delicate. I know you’re innocent, but I can only do so much. You can’t mention those documents you found to anyone. We need a cover-up and this is the only way they won’t put charges for seeing you at the scene of the homicide at eleven in the evening -”_

_With that, Gavin sprung around the corner with the gun pointed their way._

_“BPD, hands where I can see them!”_

_Wells’ eyes went wide as he bolted back. “Jesus!”_

_“Whoa, kiddo. Easy,” Gavin’s father said, palm flat towards him as he slowly stepped forward. “That’s not a finger gun, all right? Put that down.”_

_“...but I’m doing what you do!”_

_“Reed,” Wells tried, tone reeking of caution._

_His father pushed on. “Gavin, please, that’s dangerous,” he demanded, voice stricter now. “Give it to me. Right now.”_

_Face falling, Gavin’s heart sank._

_He didn’t understand. He just wanted to be a hero like his dad, and now, he was being scolded for it. Whenever his father used that tone, part of him died. He just wanted him to be proud._

_“Why? It’s stuck anyway,” he replied, pushing harder against the curved piece._

_“Gavin, don’t -!”_

_*Gunshot*_

* * *

**GAVIN  
~ DEC 22ND, 2038 * PM 7:04 ~**

“So it is your father.”

Tina finally managed to snap him out of it, her voice soft as she addressed him. After all, she never met Gavin’s father. He was fired long before she even came to the precinct. It took a solid five seconds before he even registered the hand on his arm ready to shake him as if he’d passed out over his desk or something. He reacted before she could.

Gavin immediately shrugged out of her touch. “How many?”

“Gav -”

“Tina, how fucking many?” he demanded with a glare.

She took a moment to just look at him.

“Just me, Connor and Fowler, as far as I know,” she replied, Gavin’s lips pressing together as he averted his eyes. “There’s some family resemblance, so a couple theories are probably going around the precinct. I don’t know. Fowler probably wanted to keep you out of it, but... it’s all over the news. You were bound to find out eventually. I’m sorry.”

Only Gavin, his father, the deceased Carter Wells, and Hank knew the real story. Why would his father cover up for him? It was no secret that they weren’t close.

He registered Hank taking note of the commotion and had to bail before he could approach. Before he could say whatever he wanted to say.

“Fuck, they got it all wrong,” Gavin muttered.

Just about to make a beeline for Fowler’s office, Tina grabbed his arm again.

“Whoa!” she said, alarm and mild annoyance on her features. “What the fuck, Gav? You can’t just drop a bomb like that and piss off.”

“I’ll deal with it.”

“Gavin, seriously, whatever you’re going through? This is not the time to push me away.”

He tore free. “I _said,_ ‘I’ll deal with it’!”

His guilt emerged at the brief surprise on her face -- shock, even -- and he felt sick to his stomach. He rarely snapped at Tina. Frankly, he probably never had. One of the few things he didn’t let her in on was his past and he wanted to keep it that way. He realized he was making a scene by his outburst, so if the precinct hadn’t put two-and-two together before, they sure did now.

Nevertheless, Tina’s hold-up was enough for Hank to reach them. He wasn’t gentle.

Hank grasped his collar. “Stay right fucking here, son.”

“Piss off, asshole!”

“No, you shut the fuck up and listen to me. I know you’re about to do something real fucking stupid.”

“Oh, so I’m just gonna let my old man get tortured in death row because I fucked up?”

“Because you were a four-year-old kid,” he replied through clenched teeth, voice lowered for Tina not to hear. Gavin held the glare. “I made a promise to your dad when you signed up in the DPD and like hell if I’m letting all the shit you’ve worked for all go down the drain. Use your fucking head, Gavin. These corporate assholes are gonna ruin you if you speak up now.”

Lips pressing harder together, Gavin’s eyes darted.

“Your dad’s got nothing more to lose than you, so if you wanna do right by him, you shut the fuck up,” Hank added, releasing his grip with force and push for good measure. “He worked his ass off so his ungrateful kid could have whatever he wanted.”

“What I wanted was a fucking father and guess what? He did a shit job at it.”

_...then you walked in, I got my hopes up, and then you fucked me over when I needed you the most._

How could Hank not see that he was the father Gavin never had? How much it hurt Gavin that Hank was so focused on his own pain of losing Cole that he didn’t see Gavin suffered, too? That he left Gavin to grieve on his own? After Cole died, Gavin was rendered obsolete in Hank’s eyes, and that hurt. He trusted Hank and then he let him down.

“At least he tried, and Christ, I doubt you made it easy.”

“Well, boo-fucking-hoo. He didn’t try hard enough. I don’t owe him shit, but I’m not sitting on my ass while they off him. I got morals.”

“Only when we get this espionage bullshit sorted out can you clear your precious conscience.”

Before Gavin burst -- berated him about just how little he actually knew -- he managed to stop himself. He didn’t know what to think. What to do. He was overwhelmed by the entire situation and such a thing didn’t allow for logical reasoning. The reason why it took so long for death row inmates to be executed was because nearly two decades before said execution was torture in itself. Despite his dislike for his dad, it wasn’t morally right to let someone else suffer for something you did. Especially when said person covered for you.

Tina broke the following silence.

“Look. I don’t know what’s going on, and fuck, I guess I’ve gotta respect that,” she butted in, arms crossed “...but whatever it is, I’m not letting you do whatever you’re doing alone. I’ve got your back, Gav.”

She always did.

* * *

**~ DEC 23RD, 2038 * AM 12:22 ~**

****

Pacing the floor with his phone to an ear, Gavin was about to boil over with rage.

He’d attempted to find out more about this Carter Wells and who he was dealing with when it came to the trial, but said FBI agent having a busy family that still lived in Birmingham, Gavin was left on hold. Deemed unimportant. Turns out it wasn’t easy to find out who had made the charges against his father. So far, little to nothing had turned up.

A click was heard and the door swung open, him turning to it. Gavin needed a moment to really register what he was seeing.

Disheveled, lids heavy over light grey eyes, LED flickered at a clear red. His board shoulder pressed up against the open doorway frame to support his body and blue blood emerged from the side of his hairline. Splattered all over his uniform. His, or another android’s, he didn’t know. Several rifts were sighted, his arm laid horizontal across his abdomen as if to keep his regulator in place, artificial skin ripped open at the entire right side of his face to reveal his white exoskeleton. Said artificial skin glitched against the damage.

It showed no signs of regenerating.

“Nines?” he addressed, phone forgotten on the kitchen table as he bolted for him.

Knowing Gavin would catch him, Nines pushed from the doorway and fell against his body.

"̶̤̑̿F̴͇͉̊͝o̷̧͙̔u̷̱͊ṅ̴̡̕d̴̜͔͂̓ ̶͇̳̄h̶͍͜͝i̷̪͜͠͝m̴̭̈́,̵͙͊͜"̵̠̖̆ he crackled, voice almost pure static.

The RK900.

He’d been so caught up in work and his own problems that he’d entirely forgotten that Nines had gone after the android. That was nearly six hours ago. What kind of partner was he?

Gavin cupped his shoulder. “Fucking hell, Nines, what’d I tell you? You’re not indestructible!”

"̸̯͜T̶͖͈͙̳͙͛͌͌̕͝ĥ̸̭ĭ̵̧̤͈̀̉r̷̢̜͍̘̒͘į̶̦̹̦̉ȕ̴̡̧͖̃̑m̵̨̠̆̕.̵̪̼̺͈̗̾̈͑͐̚"̶̧̬͎̆̏̆

 _Thirium._ He got that.

Quickly he led Nines to the couch and had him sit down. Gavin was nothing but thankful that he’d stocked up on blue blood beforehand in case anything like this happened. He was actually able to help out for once. His full attention turned to the cupboard where he had the thirium stored, pulling out the drawer and grabbing one of the bags.

He paused. It probably wouldn’t be enough and thus he grabbed another.

Crossing Nines in passing to get something to store said thirium in, he registered just how bad of a state Nines was in. His head was bowed, a hunched posture, his eyes closed. It was all-too-different from his usual pole-up-his-ass, raised chin, ‘I couldn’t care less about you’ demeanor. Nines -- a weapon in android form -- had nearly been torn apart out there.

He just looked so damn vulnerable.

“Hey,” Gavin tried as he poured the thirium into a glass, receiving no response. “Hey, Nines. Look at me. Keep your eyes open.”

Lashes fluttering, Nines did his best to ascend his gaze. Not that it helped on Gavin’s part. After all, androids could shut down even with their eyes wide open, but Gavin was human and the request was an impulse.

The LED was spinning at red and -- seeing that Nines was no longer deviant -- it merely reflected his damages. Not his emotional state. Even still, whatever happened sure had given Nines a beat-down, both physically and mentally. He knew him that much. The way he was holding his arm pressed against his pump regulator as if worried it’d fall out was disconcerting.

Or maybe because his reduced strength thanks to said damages he merely protected it the best he could.

For Gavin, it just then hit him how pissed he was.

This fucker had nearly killed his partner. The one android he un-ironically found himself giving a shit about.

Glass in hand, he was quick on his feet to approach and hold it out to him. Nines missed it by three inches, his coordination visibly damaged, possibly even having lost his depth-of-field vision if that was a thing.

Gavin was ripped from his own mind when Nines’ hand brushed against his.

A jolt went up his body. It was unexpected, the touch in general and just how _cold_ Nines was, his thirium supply too drained to be able to turn his internal heater on. He had to fight the urge to wrap his own hands around Nines’ to warm them up as if tin cans were actually capable of getting frostbite. His attention turned elsewhere when he registered the skin pulling back on Nines’ hand -- as if wanting to interface -- exactly at the tips of his fingers that came in contact with the inside of Gavin’s palm.

Nines, in his damaged state, didn’t even seem to notice it happening.

The moment he managed to get ahold of the glass, he knocked the thirium back. Gavin refilled it. He had to grab a third bag after Nines finished his second and it was only when Nines downed that one as well that his skin began to heal. The process was quicker than any other android he’d seen, naturally, eyeing the red LED intently as it slowly processed.

Yellow.

Then blue.

Stepping up to the sink, only then did he need answers.

“The fuck happened out there?” Gavin demanded without any real bite, wetting a clean cloth.

Pushing from the counter, he shortly flopped down next to him. There was no protest on Nines’ part when Gavin grabbed his chin and directed his head in a better angle so he could get the thirium -- on its way to get into his left eye -- away from his face. Nines made a whirring sound at the movement and hell if it almost sounded like _purring._

He realized the sound must’ve come from his blood vessels filling up with the ingested liquid, returning to the empty vessels, but that wasn’t enough to spoil his focus. All he knew was that he needed to get the thirium off his face.

Gavin had no issue with blood, blue or red, dried or fresh.

Nines’ blood, however, was different.

Somehow.

“Connor’s intel was correct,” Nines replied, voice mostly back to normal. “Eighty-Eight was in the Midtown district. One of the CyberLife facilities there. I believe he was gathering supplies and could register fuel among said supplies. Wires and metals. Gunpowder, maybe. I’m convinced he’s dealing with explosives, but aside from that, I can’t tell what he’s planning.” Brows tight, Nines refused to look anywhere but forward. “I was unable to catch him.”

Things weren’t looking too hot.

“We’ll get it done.”

“If I‘d been more efficient, we’d -”

“Nines,” he cut him off, nails digging into his shoulder and pulling it back. Gavin forced him to meet his eye. “We’ll _get it done._ I don’t know what the fuck this guy’s deal is -- or CyberLife’s -- but we’ll stop it.”

Keeping his gaze pinned, he expected a response. It never came. Nines just looked at him, with a mix of what he would call appreciation and confusion, holding it. A hint of frustration was thrown in for good measure judging by how tight said expression was. It was an expression he was all-too-familiar with at this point, Nines rather settling for anger than boredom, seeming more and more expressive as time passed. He’d registered him vaguely picking up some of Gavin’s mannerisms as well and mirroring them.

He supposed it was natural considering that they were figuratively attached by the hip these days.

Or by the shoulder, really.

Gavin had a tendency to use Nines as a wall to rest against as he never moved from slightly behind him. Nines, in return, didn’t seem to mind.

Aside from Gavin, Nines only ever spent time with Hank and Connor. With Tina and Chris, Gavin usually worked as a middleman, so it was rare to see Nines interact with either of them on his own.

Most people were too intimidated by Nines to even attempt conversation. The android in question had no issue with putting his foot down and only needed to direct a hard glare for people to back off. With the accompanying LED in his forehead -- and the knowledge of Nines being an android literally designed for combat -- that was enough. Gavin had never been intimidated by Nines personally, per se. Just his ability to take his job if he wanted. Stupid maybe, but at this stage, Gavin trusted he wouldn’t.

These past few days, Nines had seemed somewhat lost. Gavin couldn’t put his finger on it.

Whether related to the case, or personal, he had no idea.

He suspected both.

Nines had yet to look away from him and Gavin’s eyes darted, becoming all-too self-aware. Of his breathing, his posture, everything. Didn’t help that Nines was looking at him as if he’d register the tiniest movement.

 _For fuck’s sake,_ Gavin mused, realizing he was being analyzed again. _Use your_ words, _tin can._

Nines really was awful with human interaction and this only proved it. Was he expecting him to continue talking? Gavin was done. He’d said what he wanted to say. Conversation came easier for Connor. He was friendly with all and everyone -- seen as a part of the precinct -- while Nines seemed more of an outsider. Just like Gavin, in a way, but Gavin chose to be by his own volition.

He didn’t know what the case was with Nines.

Eventually, Nines broke the contact. Gavin could resume his breathing in return.

“Why are you investigating an FBI agent that was the victim of a homicide 32 years ago?”

Frowning at the out-of-nowhere comment, Gavin followed where grey eyes landed. He let his own fall to the coffee table to see the pad with the revealing article wide open. Cursing, he quickly reached over to turn the pad off, but Nines grasped his wrist in the movement. Gavin was ready to snap, but saw no use in it. Knowing Nines, he wouldn’t let it go before he had answers.

He let out a defeated sigh and had his arm fall to his thigh, hand curling into a fist around the thirium-dotted cloth before the other followed.

Nines picked up the pad. “This mentions your father.”

“Yeah, no shit. That isn’t exactly my concern right now. You nearly got dropped.”

“Didn’t know you cared.”

“Of-fucking-course I do!” Gavin snapped, Nines’ face twisting in mild surprise as he regained eye contact. “Whether you like it or not, that’s where we’re at, and I don’t need your dead body on my conscience.”

“I was the one that chose to investigate on my own.”

“...and I let you, dipshit.”

His answer wasn’t immediate. “I’m fine, Gavin.”

Gavin let out a scoff, lips pressing together as he directed his eyes to the floor.

He nearly wasn’t.

He’d known Nines was growing on him, but now seeing him stumbling through his door on the brink of death, it was as if a third eye opened.

This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid.

“Can I finish up now?” he asked, not bothering to wait for a reply before he grasped Nines’ chin again. Nines let him. Nevertheless, it was a bit difficult with his current angle. “Jesus. Tilt down your head, will you? This is difficult enough as it is.”

Nines frowned. “I can’t. If you haven’t noticed, this collar is very limiting.”

_...and here I thought you were just an arrogant piece of shit._

“You can’t fucking look down?” he asked, taken aback by the reveal. “Why would CyberLife put a collar on you that doesn’t allow you to move?”

“Status, I’m certain. A way to show everyone that the most dangerous android ever created was at their mercy.”

Unable to help himself, Gavin just stared. It was seriously fucked up. CyberLife really were supremacist assholes. There was a reason Gavin usually wore V-necks and the reason was just that. Movement. Anything higher than his collarbone and he felt trapped. The only time he was comfortable with his neck covered was when someone wanted to get a bit rough in the bedroom and that was it. Then again, he wouldn’t allow just about anyone that power over him. Gavin had a need to be in charge regardless.

In any event, CyberLife didn’t control him anymore.

Reaching up, he grasped the sides of Nines’ collar and ripped them apart from one another. His neck was exposed. Long, but not too long. Strong, but not too strong. Gavin refused to acknowledge that he was staring. As if on autopilot, Nines reached for his own neck before looking down. There was a hint of uncertainty in his stoic expression.

Gavin averted his eyes. “How’s that feel?”

“I don’t know. Exposed. It did provide protection, but it’s not like I have a windpipe to worry about. My only critical component is my thirium pump and its regulator.”

“It’s a human thing.”

He pushed a hand up beneath the fabric of his collar -- Nines removing his own to allow access -- palm against the side of Nines’ neck. Said collar had heated up the skin beneath ever so slightly. Trapping his jaw between a thumb and forefinger, Gavin tilted his head aside, receiving the angle he sought. He was able to continue were he left off and it turned out that a few streaks of thirium had managed to drip down through the collar’s edge. He still couldn’t tell who it belonged to.

“You’re avoiding the topic.”

Gavin wasn’t getting out of this one.

“...and you don’t just fucking quit, do you?” he asked, voice drained. Nines gave him the side-eye. “My old man’s been wrongly accused of the murder. To top it off, some false espionage charges were made, so I’m trying to figure out how the fuck that happened.”

“Does Fowler know you’re investigating this?”

“If he did, he’d throw me in the bullpen himself.”

Nines grasped his wrist and moved it from his face. “Gavin, you’re interfering with issues of the state,” he said, turning his head to look at him as Gavin’s forearm still holding the sheet dropped to his shoulder. “You’ll face severe consequences if they find out.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Fuck, you already forgot how you pulled my ass up on the Stratford Tower roof a month back?”

“I was there to make sure it didn’t backfire, but you were about to do this on your own.”

“Dad’s gonna suffer otherwise,” he replied, releasing his wrist to rest his forearms on his own thighs. He straightened out the sheet and stared down at the blue blood. “Espionage results in death row. I get it can take about 16 years before the actual execution, but those sick fucks are gonna torture him -- _break_ him -- until then. Part of the punishment.”

“So what do we know?”

Ascending his eyes, Gavin couldn’t help the lines in his forehead from smoothening out.

‘We.’

Just how quick Nines was to take his side was unexpected. Still, he couldn’t say he didn’t appreciate it. Not to mention that having an android sure would help out a great deal.

Gavin straightened his back. “Not much,” he replied, directing his attention to another pad on the coffee table. “Guy’s name was Carter Wells. Left behind a wife -- Kayleigh -- and two kids. Claire and Trevor. Claire had yet to be born at the time, so she’s about 32 now. Trevor died in a car accident six years ago. As you saw, Carter was a Fed, so information about his job is classified.”

“What connection did your father have with this family?”

“Wrong place at the wrong time? Fuck if I know,” he replied vaguely, not ready to talk about any of that.

Nines, of course, took note.

“Whatever you refuse to tell me better not be crucial.”

“It isn’t,” he said, before falling into a pause. His jaw clenched. “The fuck are you doing this, anyway?”

“If what you’re saying is that your father has been wrongly accused, I believe it,” he replied, Gavin redirecting his gaze to see Nines hadn’t moved his eyes from him. “That aside, espionage charges can’t be made from nothing. If he’s already placed on death row, it must’ve been proven, so perhaps this Wells was the one involved and somehow had it pinned on your father.”

Although he doubted Carter -- whom he knew was a friend of his dad -- would do such a thing, he wouldn’t put it past him. If there was one thing he’d learned in the force, it was not to be blind-sighted by personal opinions.

A light went up for him. “Pinned or paid off.”

“There’s a high probability, but that still doesn’t explain who killed him and why.”

Again and again, he went over whether or not to tell Nines in his head. That it was Gavin. That it was an accident.

He didn’t.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, rising to his feet and throwing the cloth into the recycling bin. “So what’s the plan? Whether or not Wells was involved with espionage isn’t exactly something we’d find on the internet.”

“The FBI archives certainly would, but it’s nearly impossible to get in there.”

Gavin snapped his fingers. “Fuck, you still have the, uh... the voice-mimic function or whatever? Use Perkins.”

“That would only get us so far. The FBI knows who you are, and because of that, they also know me. We can’t exactly just walk in there.”

“Fucking hell, you were the one who wanted to infiltrate CyberLife.”

“No matter how influential CyberLife is, I’m certain infiltrating the FBI archives would be a tad bigger undertaking,” he deadpanned, Gavin sighing as he averted his eyes and brushed a thumb against his slightly chapped lips. A habit. “I suggest we start with something smaller. I may be able to hack into their database if I had a computer attached to it. Any FBI agent would do.”

The only FBI agent he knew of that was still in Detroit was Dick -- well, _Richard_ \-- Perkins.

It could work.

Guy wouldn’t be happy with them breaking in, though.

Turning to face Nines again, he was only to be reminded of what happened to him before he went off. The yet fresh thirium splattered on his uniform made him feel even shittier that he was prioritizing his own needs.

“Not like we can do anything ‘bout it right now in your fried state,” he replied, regarding Nines from top to bottom. “You sure you’re good?”

“All my functions are in order.”

Gavin crossed his arms. “Mentally, smartass. I didn’t ask for a damage report.”

Back straightening, Nines blinked.

“Albeit not ideal... it’s certainly in a better state than it was minutes ago. The moment I stepped inside, I was more focused on not getting blue blood on the floor. Last thing I needed was to listen to your whining.”

“How fucking dare you? Whining is my specialty.”

That had nowhere near as much venom as he’d anticipated. If anything, he sounded drained.

...and where the fuck did that last part come from?

He should’ve been angry, and yet, he wasn’t. Especially not when he glimpsed the corner of Nines’ lips curve slightly upwards. The fact that he even noticed revealed that, fuck, he’d been staring.

Gavin cursed internally and directed his glance elsewhere.

He’d figured the physical attraction would mend over time, but it had anything but, as Nines became more and more appealing as time passed. Wanting to bone down a coworker was a no-no. Wanting to bone down an android programmed to follow orders -- that you could literally order in bed -- and a friend, yes _friend,_ at that? Fuck. Even worse.

His dick really had to stop thinking for him.

“Glad your twin didn’t tear out your sass chip,” Gavin added, meeting his eye again. “That’s all well and good or whatever, but I’m serious.”

Nines took a moment before answering.

“I was... scared. Less than I was when I was deviant, but said fear never truly left.”

Last time he heard something that raw from Nines was back at Kamski’s. It was obvious now that Nines needed to talk whenever something happened, and for once, Gavin was ready to step up.

Sighing, he let his hands fall to his sides and took a seat next to him again. He didn’t really know what to do. Without knowing why, he found himself hooking an arm around Nines’ shoulder, pulling him in sideways and burying his nose in his unusually disheveled hair. For comfort, maybe. Then again, he didn’t really know if it worked. The steady blue LED revealed nothing in Nines’ machine-like state.

“Welcome to the real world, tin can,” he muttered, knowing the feeling all-too-well.

They simply sat there for god knows how long. The moment was oddly comforting, and although he’d never admit it, Gavin needed it as much as Nines did. Tilting his head, he saw that Nines was -- quite literally -- halfway lying down.

“Why the fuck are you so tall?” Gavin asked, scowling.

Nines looked unimpressed. “I believe the question you’re attempting to phrase is why ‘you,’ as in ‘Gavin Reed,’ is so shor -”

“Finish that sentence and you’re no longer welcome at my place, toaster.”

“I wasn’t aware I ever was.”

“Oh yeah? Well, happy fucking birthday,” he replied, falling into a pause. “Not a damn word ‘bout this to anyone, you got that?”

“Certainly not yet. It’s valuable blackmail.”

Gavin puffed a laugh.

 _Fuck you,_ he mused, not having the heart to say it aloud.

Couldn’t stop himself from grinning, though.


	13. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“She’s from the State Department.”_  
>  \- Jeffrey Fowler
> 
> ...in which Nines gets protective, Gavin has some explaining to do, one of them falls in love, and the DPD gets a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: WARNING!** Referenced suicide.

**NINES  
~ DEC 23RD, 2038 * AM 03:34 ~**

Of all the things Nines had expected to do in his deployment to the DPD, breaking into Richard Perkins’ house wasn’t one of them.

Perkins himself wasn’t present during said trial, him being temporarily transferred and thus taking his family with him. Get in, get what they need, and get out. It was as simple as that. Although Nines was primarily designed for combat, he wasn’t a stranger to infiltration. It came with the RK-series despite specializing in different branches.

Getting the door open, the house was in complete silence.

Perkins was a simple man and thus nothing stood out from the ordinary. They started their search downstairs and found his office. While Gavin was taking in the apartment and stood guard just to make sure, Nines placed himself before the present terminal and went to work. It was, naturally, one of the more complicated interfaces. Yet, it proved no match for him. He shortly had the terminal unlocked and got to the FBI database password screen. With a bit of effort, he hacked through the mainframe and got in.

Pressing a fist against the terminal keyboard and letting his artificial skin retract, information traversed in a millisecond. He found what he was looking for after some digging as it had been placed -- no, _hidden_ \-- under a folder on finished cases and thus was deemed unimportant for the current FBI employees. It was a draft written by none other than Carter Wells.

The notes must’ve been written moments before his death in 2006. As it turns out, Carter was innocent.

> **_CLASSIFIED_ ** __
> 
> _* Encrypted (later proven to be espionage) documents found on homicide victim Jonathan Brinks’ terminal. Reed was the detective investigating this case and tasked to have said documents decrypted. Being without a partner at the time, he and his captain were the only ones aware of said documents._
> 
> _*The documents were to be sent via Reed to a Natasha Lyons in order to have it decrypted. Lyons is a childhood friend of Mr. Reed. At some point, an accomplice of Brinks had her home bugged, possibly seeing no need or want to dispose of her unless she managed to have it decrypted._
> 
> _* Reed had set up a meeting with her when she finished, met up at exactly 11:12 p.m. at her home as it was confidential information and couldn’t be handled via phone. The unknown accomplice -- having bugged said home -- found out about this meeting and intervened. He shot Lyons dead and had her homicide pinned on Reed as the murderer fled through a window. Reed was taken into BPD custody for the suspected murder of Lyons -- his captain confirming his innocence by informing the FBI of said documents._
> 
> _* Lyons, before succumbing to her wounds, managed to have the decrypted files transferred over to a floppy disk the BPD found at her crime scene. It was delivered to the FBI for analysis._
> 
> _* Once Reed had it confirmed these documents were indeed from Brinks, there was a need for a cover-up, as espionage is a crime not legally shared with the public. Said cover was that Reed was having an affair with Mrs. Lyons as nothing else could explain why he would arrive at her home near midnight without mentioning said confidential documents._  
> 

“I believe you should see this.”

Nines was given a confused look in return, but he simply gestured to the terminal so Gavin could see for himself. Gavin palmed his hands on the table and skimmed through the document.

Once finished, a wave of emotions washed over his face.

“Fucking hell. Over thirty years believing he was a piece of shit... fuck!”

“Your family were never informed of the cover?”

“If we were, things would’ve been pretty fucking different. For once, my mom wouldn’t’ve put a bullet in her own head a few days later.”

“Although this explains where the espionage documents originated from -- enough to remove your father from death row -- it doesn’t explain who framed him. ‘An accomplice of Brinks.’ This man is most likely still out there as the entire case was put on hiatus after your father was proven innocent back in 06 and now it has reemerged. The accomplice must’ve accidentally brought attention to it or made a mistake that he had to clean up. Then again, it could all also be personal. An act of revenge as your father nearly caught Brinks.”

“So, what, a setback prevented this guy for framing him earlier -?”

They heard a gun cock.

“Hands where I can see them,” came a feminine voice, lightly shaking. Nines instinctively stepped between her and Gavin. “I’ve already called the cops. Who are you and what do you want?”

“Claire Wells,” Nines told him.

She was apparently staying at Perkins’ home until the trial was over. Nines should’ve known.

Gavin spoke up. “Detectives. We’re investigating your father’s case.”

“Bullshit. I didn’t agree to a meeting.”

“Cops don’t need permission. See my badge?” he asked, her eyes falling hesitantly to the golden metal on his belt. Gavin held her eye once they ascended. “I’ll unhook it and throw it over.”

“All right,” she said after a pause.

Slowly, Gavin reached down. He did exactly what he said he would and chucked it her way at a respectable distance. Enough for her to have a large amount of distance between them. Let her know they weren’t planning anything. Claire kept the gun directed their way when she crouched down. Rising back up, she took an experimental gaze on said badge.

“Gavin,” he introduced himself, Nines unable to stop him before he pushed on. “Reed.”

Claire froze. “Reed?” she said, with barely contained rage. “Your father took _everything_ from me.”

“It wasn’t him. You’ve got it all wrong -”

“What do you mean, ‘it wasn’t him?’ He confessed!”

“To protect _me.”_

Everything fell into place.

Her eyes went wide. “Wh... what?”

“Gavin,” Nines warned, for once wishing he could just keep his mouth shut.

“I was four,” he said, ignoring Nines as Gavin made an attempt to move away from behind him. Nines didn’t allow it in fear she’d put a bullet in him the moment he was in the open. She just stared. “I found my old man’s gun. He’d forgotten to lock the case. Thing was jammed, or at least I thought, so I took it down to him. Your dad was there and shit just hit the fan.” When she didn’t answer, Gavin pushed on. “You’ve got every reason to be pissed at me, but he’s innocent in this.”

> GAVIN FEELS: **GUILT**  
> 

...for killing someone undeserving. Just like Nines did with those YK units.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
2 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
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“Innocent?” she spat, a light scowl on her face. “Oh, that’s rich. He kept the truth hidden from my family all this time.”

“...and he shouldn’t have, all right? He fucked up,” he said, before addressing what he knew of Claire's family. “You have a daughter, right? My bet is you’d do the same for her, but there’s a lot more to all this. Someone planted false espionage charges on him and he’s lined up for death row. These files would get him out and I’ll take full responsibility for everything else.”

There was a pause.

“Did you... did you know him?” she asked, voice shaking as well. “My dad.”

“Not directly, but my old man spoke highly of him,” he replied, her jaw clenching. “I’ll spare you the apology because I know you don’t wanna hear it. I know how it’s like, growing up not knowing your dad. Mine might be alive, but he was a complete stranger, so he might as well be dead. A month prior to today, it’d been eight years since the old man and I last spoke. It’d hurt less growing up was he not there, but I can’t walk away from this. It’s been long overdue and I’ve gotta step up even if I know that means I’ll have to spend the rest of my life behind bars.

“After the trial, you’ll never hear from me again,” he added, falling into a pause “...but I’m not letting my dad suffer for what I did.”

Her hands were shaking violently now, eyes brimming with unshed tears. Claire abruptly pushed the gun closer, finger on the trigger, and Nines again shielded Gavin with his body. On impulse, Gavin shut his eyes.

He didn’t move any more than that as if accepting what was about to happen.

It never did.

With a choked sob, she lowered the firearm. Brown eyes fell to the floor before shutting tightly.

“Go. Just... fucking go,” she forced out.

They didn’t need to be told twice. Even if she’d lowered her guard, Nines yet made sure to keep Gavin behind him. She didn’t even look at them when they headed for the door. In passing, Nines gently grabbed Gavin’s badge from her extended arm. Off in the distance, police sirens were heard. Nevertheless, they managed to get away with the car.

* * *

**~ DEC 23RD, 2038 * AM 04:00 ~**

The road back was silent. Gavin was behind the wheel, a permanent crease to his brow. His jaw was locked tight.

32 years ago. Four years old. Gavin killed his first man and lost his mother the same week. By human standards, he was competing in the worst childhood trauma pendant and destined for the finale. Not only that, but it seemed as if what Nines had seen was just touching the surface. That there was something more that added to the unfair upbringing.

Now Nines understood why he didn’t want to talk about it.

> GAVIN FEELS: **FEAR**  
> 

...for being found out. Like Nines did about his deviancy.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
2 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[/25- RA9.exe -25/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

“Fuck!” Gavin cursed, stopping the vehicle.

He was already outside and had the door slammed back shut before Nines could say anything. Frankly, he didn’t know how to. What had just happened was something he couldn’t help but feel as if he shouldn’t have seen.

Shouldn’t’ve _heard._

Before him, Gavin seated himself on the hood of his car. He’d pulled out a pack of cigarettes and started lighting the one he propped between his lips. It seemed as if he didn’t mind the rain that was pouring down. Nines’ arms were crossed, remaining seated, not sure whether to join him outside or stay where he was until he’d cooled down.

He wouldn’t force Gavin to talk if he didn’t want to. Yet, Nines couldn’t help but feel that deep down, that was exactly what Gavin needed. He remembered how Gavin had reacted when he asked about his scar. How surprised he’d seemed. Appreciative, even.

So Nines made a decision.

Pulling up the car door and closing it back shut, he rounded the vehicle to approach.

Back hunched, elbows on his knees and feet atop the bumper, Gavin’s face was buried in his hands with a notably tight expression even behind said hands. The cigarette was placed between his middle and index finger, tip burning lightly. At this stage, he’d obtain a cold. Shucking off his RK jacket without question, Nines draped it over his shoulders, Gavin appearing numb to the gesture.

He couldn’t tell whether or not he noticed.

Nines took a half-standing, half-seated seat next to him, car pushing down ever so slightly thanks to the added weight. His hands were kept pocketed as he glanced Gavin’s way.

> | **ANALYZING...** |
> 
> REED, GAVIN  
>  * Height: 5.9 ft. - Weight: 174 lbs | 2 lbs below usual weight  
>  * Temperature: 96.7 F° | 1.0 F° below recommended level | > Heating up...  
>  * Malnourished  
>  * Sleep-deprived  
> 

He waited. For Gavin to talk or to go back inside the car, he didn’t know.

It wasn’t too long before Gavin straightened his back. His expression was tight and lips were pressed into a thin line. He threw up his leg, foot now on the car hood to create a barrier between them. The hand holding the cigarette propped up on the elevated knee and closed around it. His free hand balled into a fist, head turned the opposite direction as if Nines wasn’t even there, chin dipping as half-lidded grey eyes stared at the wet asphalt. It seemed as if the past few days without sleep was finally catching up to him.

Gavin’s hair was wet and darkened from the rain, a lock lying flat against his forehead that Nines for some reason had an urge to push back. The clouded skies had the bags under his eyes seem even more prominent.

“You just gonna stand there staring at me all day, tin can?”

“I hadn’t planned on it, no,” he replied, Gavin still refusing to meet his eye as he took another draft of the cigarette. “Your body temperature is below the recommended level, you’re malnourished, and suffering from sleep deprivation. Only two of three issues can be solved at this moment, so I advise you at the very least try to get some sleep. My jacket will ensure your temperature increase.”

Frowning, only then did Gavin’s eyes land on the RK900 logo.

“The fuck?”

So he hadn’t registered Nines draping it over him.

“When you’re done being dramatic, please get back inside the car.”

“Weather’s clearing up,” he said, not being wrong. “Back at my apartment... that thing with your hand. Your skin pulled back or whatever as if you were trying to probe my memory. The fuck was that about?”

Gavin had turned his body to face him, his once elevated ankle squaring over his knee so it rested against the car hood. Feeling Gavin’s fingers closing around his wrist and gently yanking it over to get a better look, Nines saw him frowning even deeper down at his palm. Gavin put the cigarette between his lips again and leaned forward, forearms dropping to his raised shin, pressing two fingers to the inside of said palm. Nines knew that Gavin was trying to skirt around the issue -- like he always did -- but decided to humor him anyway.

He let the skin pull back.

Nines didn’t allow just about anyone to be in contact with the inside of his palm or his exoskeleton in general. He was well-aware that a human couldn’t see his memories, but there was a significance in the concept.

“Not probe. Connect. There’s a difference,” he replied, Gavin watching as the skin shifted with the movements of his fingers. “In my damaged state, I was incapable of controlling all of my functions. Every time an android comes in contact with the inside of a palm, our programming expects us to connect. With control of said functions, I’m able to prevent the skin from retracting. By connecting, androids share memories. Probing is one-sided and forced. It’s the most intimate form of contact between androids.”

Gavin arched an amused brow up at him. “You’re telling me we’re fucking right now?”

“Intimacy is different for humans, so I suppose you can see it as the equivalent. It’s a sign of trust.”

For a moment, there was silence.

Gavin didn’t seem to plan letting go of him. Clearly, he was considering something judging by the tight expression having returned to his face. Nines gave him whatever time he required.

When Gavin finally opened his mouth and spoke, he hadn’t expected what came out of it.

“I grew up in Birmingham,” he began, Nines’ face falling ever so slightly in both confusion and intrigue. “Dad was a police detective. Mom a lawyer. Naturally, both professions didn’t leave much room for anything else. Didn’t change when they had a kid. They thought it could work, and for a couple years, it did... but then mom got this prolonged case with a suspect off-shore -- a three-week case -- and I got a sitter just before she left. That was shortly after I’d turned two. Dad was still needed at the precinct.

“When mom returned, one would’ve thought our lives got back to normal, but she’d taken this job offer and I saw her even less. It continued for two years, me having probably a dozen sitters -- both good and bad ones -- at four ending up with this chick in her early twenties only caring about the paycheck, so she did the bare minimum. She’d just left for the day when all this shit went down. I had no paternal or maternal figure to go to -- the sitter always on her phone, mom’s, ‘go ask your dad’ and dad’s ‘sorry, kiddo, I’ve gotta take this call.’

“For mom during all this believing dad cheated on her, it became too much for her to handle. Put a bullet in her own head because of it. I found her in the bathroom a couple days after Wells died. My 5th birthday.

“I was sent off to kindergarten, took out my frustration on the other kids and teachers -- my hatred for my mom for leaving us like that, my useless sitter, my dad for not being there... The Birmingham precinct had seen some bad times and dad struggled to see the ends meet as the same sitter had stolen a shitload of money from him before she booked it. Dad took to drugs and alcohol to numb the pain and I several times found him passed out believing he was dead.

“Elementary school came up and I’ve lost count of how many calls dad got from the principal. Fights, bullying, disobedient behavior... you name it. Meanwhile, he tried to get back into the dating scene and met some nice lady same year. A nurse. Closest thing I ever had to a mom. She’d recently gone through a divorce and always wanted a kid,” he added, smiling lightly at the thought. “She got me a cat. You know, one of these Snowshoe breeds? I called her Socks. Anyway... the lady helped me get my grades up.”

The small smile faded. “She, uh... she was diagnosed with cancer January 4th, 2009. After she died, dad and I moved to Detroit to leave everything behind where he got a job at the DPD. Being from Birmingham, I faced issues at school where people couldn’t understand what the fuck I was saying. Too thick of an accent. Had to entirely change it and that took a lot out of me.

“I grew up quicker than the common kid, so I got rid of the sitter in 2010. Eight years of age. Dad trusted me enough to take care of myself and you can imagine how fucking proud I was. It got to my head and I wanted to follow in my dad’s footsteps. He was still a busy guy, though. A lot of the fights I initiated in school were in order for him to tear his eyes from work for just a moment of his attention. Over the years, nothing changed. Dad tried his best, I was the worst fucking son ever, and it’s been the two of us ever since.

“Moved out at 16 when I didn’t wanna deal with his drug addiction anymore. I got into the DPD myself when I came of age in 2020 and worked with the old man for two years. I already told you he was kicked out for substance abuse -- red ice this time -- in 2022. I was determined to make a name for myself no matter the consequences and that ended quite a lot of relationships, both platonic and romantic. Fuck, I tried everything to become like my dad only to realize I’m more like the bitch who birthed me.

“When things get tough, you don’t just fucking _leave._ You stick it out for the people that care ‘bout you. What she did sent my old man over the edge. It was fucking egoistic and I’ll never forgive her for that,” he finished, making it clear that Gavin didn’t know how a depressed person’s mind worked. “So there you have it, toaster. My entire sob story. Why Gavin Reed is a total dick that doesn’t know what good he has before it’s gone.”

Nines analyzed the situation.

> GAVIN FELT: **ENVIOUS**  
> 

...for not getting the attention he craved and other kids got. So he took to violence and made himself visible by any means necessary. Just like Nines did when he saw how kind Gavin was to that human lady at the bar.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
2 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[/23- RA9.exe -23/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

> GAVIN FELT: **BETRAYED**  
> 

...for trusting someone who let him down. So he stopped trusting altogether. Just like Nines did when he had his heart regulator removed after Gavin promised he wouldn’t do it.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
2 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[/21- RA9.exe -21/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

> GAVIN FELT: **LONELY**  
> 

...for having no one to go to. So he grew distant. Just like Nines had been his entire life.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
2 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[/19- RA9.exe -19/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

It made Nines realize just how amazing Gavin Reed was. For the first time in his life, he was speechless. He didn’t take for granted just how much he knew it took out of him to share all that.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Gavin looked up to meet his eye. “‘Cause you’re the only one I trust enough to hear it.”

“By saying this, you’re implying Tina doesn’t qualify.”

“She’s one of the few good things in my life and no fucking way I’m gonna risk losing that,” he admitted, the brief surprise on his face revealing that he thought he’d said too much. Gavin put up his metaphorical barrier again. “Besides -- as opposed to your pretentious ass who wouldn’t stop pushing before you had your answers -- Ti actually respects my privacy enough to let me keep a lid on it. Might as well get it outta the way.”

“In that case, I wish to address something.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Here goes...”

“From what I’ve gathered, your mother developed depression,” he said, the expression before him morphing into confusion. “The thing about depression is, that in the one committing suicide’s eyes, such an action isn’t egoistic. The people who suffer from depression are convinced that no one would care if they killed themselves and that’s why they don’t think twice about who they leave behind.”

With that, Gavin’s face fell ever so slightly.

He looked down again as if ashamed while his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Never looked at it that way,” he admitted, before falling into a pause. Gavin puffed a laugh. “Shit, I guess I’m the only bad guy here.”

Nines shook his head. “Far from it. You were simply so focused on your own pain -- albeit valid -- that you forgot everyone else’s. Hank did the exact same thing in regards to the pain of losing Cole that he disregarded yours.”

Snapping attention, Gavin stared at him wide-eyed. The grip around his hand tightened.

“The fuck do you know ‘bout that?”

“Connor told me you were close before the accident. From there, and after what you’ve just told me, it didn’t take much effort for me to read you,” he replied, Gavin remaining quiet as he seemed unable to look away. “That Hank pushed you away when Cole died -- and because he turned to substance abuse like your father as well as gained suicidal tendencies just like your mother -- is why you’re so hostile towards him. He was a paternal figure to you and you were once again forced to see a good man you cared for destroy himself. I don’t blame you for a second.”

For a moment, Gavin just looked at him.

Then his heart synced up with Nines’.

Eventually, Gavin managed to tear his eyes away. His jaw locked tight without argument.

Nines pushed on. “I was specifically designed to observe as well as analyze situations from a tactical and commonsensical standpoint, but empathy was something I lacked until I first deviated. I experienced many of the emotions you went through during that time. As for you trusting me with this concerning your past dislike for androids... I can’t say I’m not surprised.”

“You and me both, tin can,” he muttered, somewhat hesitantly letting go of Nines’ hand and rising to his feet. Skin returned at the loss of contact. “Now let’s find out who the fuck framed my dad.”

Without a second thought, Nines pushed from the car bonnet.

“After you get some sleep and food into your system, gladly. I have a few things I’d want to tell them.”

“Oh, shit. Easy there, Rambo. Save some for me,” he teased, look fond as he hopped into the passenger seat. “I ride shotgun. You’re buying.”

Nines smirked. “Whatever you say, sergeant.”

* * *

**GAVIN  
~ DEC 28TH, 2038 * PM 07:05 ~**

Six more days had passed since that RK900 nearly killed Nines. Christmas was over, thank god for that, Gavin never having been a fan of the holidays. Frankly, he hadn’t celebrated Christmas since he was maybe four. A day when you’re basically forced to buy presents to your loved ones when gifts shouldn’t be attached to a specific date. If you wanted to give a gift, it should be because you want to, not because you’re obligated to. Not to mention how expensive it got dependent on how many loved ones you had.

Tina was a bit more Christmas-y and also had to work that day, so he let her snag his coffee from Danny’s Donuts. Connor did seem to enjoy the holidays after he understood the concept and that gave Gavin another reason to scowl at him.

Nines, being the reasonable kind, had the same mindset as Gavin.

New Year’s Eve was up next and he usually went out for drinks with Tina. Gavin wasn’t the partying kind, but he couldn’t say he minded it as long as he ended up in bed with some hot guy before the clock pinged 12 a.m. the next year. He hasn’t had sex in forever. At least it felt like it. With Nines breathing down his neck -- figuratively -- at every given moment, and these cases just popping out of nowhere at headache-inducing speeds, it wasn’t as easy anymore to just dip out. He really needed to get laid soon.

As for the case, they’d run into a brick wall. It turned out that the one who killed Lyons and framed his dad for the murder was Jonathan’s brother, Quinten, who had died years prior. That meant that whoever had the case reemerge 32 years later wasn’t Quinten. There was a third accomplice. Again, Gavin had started overworking himself, but this time Nines had decided to put his foot down. At least to some extent. Nines pried more, but if said tactic didn’t work, he let him be. Do what he wanted. So Gavin tried to do better on his own terms to put him at ease.

He had a feeling Nines wouldn’t stand for it much longer, though. The glares he was given was proof enough.

“One of Perkins’ friends?” he asked Fowler, gazing through the glass window at the new face in dialogue with Nines and Hank. “Thought those assholes were finally off our backs. The fuck she doing here?”

“She’s from the State Department.”

Nines.

She was there for Nines.

“State Department? Nines doesn’t answer to those pricks at CyberLife anymore. Tell her to go fuck herself.”

“It’s not my call, Reed. Nines made the decision to follow through with it.”

His body froze solid.

“He fucking _what_ now?”

Fowler clasped his hands together on his desk. “It’s been nearly two months now and that’s enough for his initial evaluation. They’re also gonna need your report on how he’s performed in the field. I thought he’d informed you.”

 _If he did, I wouldn’t’ve fucking asked,_ he was ready to snap, but scrapped it. Shouting at his boss wouldn’t benefit anyone.

Gavin just stared. “How long?”

“Deadline for the evaluation is in two weeks, sergeant. Get it done.”

Deciding not to comment -- or even deny it -- Gavin pulled up from the chair and headed for the office door in a reasonable pace. Pushing it open, he didn’t look back as he stepped down the stairs. Not having the patience for the snobby-looking female currently in dialogue with his partner, Gavin didn’t bother to approach and called him over. Two weeks. Two weeks and Nines was gone.

He’d entirely forgotten that Nines’ stay was only temporary and convinced himself he was in for the long haul. A month and a half ago, he would’ve been ecstatic. What irked him the most was how Nines hadn’t told him. Just when he’d genuinely started to like Plastic Prick 2.0 and saw him as a constant in his life, something like this had to happen. It was the same story as always. Grow attached and then they leave. If there was a god, fuck him. He didn’t know why he thought this time would be different.

They found themselves in the car on their way to the crime scene soon after. He didn’t turn on the radio, silence filling the thick air, him aware the conversation was inevitable.

“Judging by your tight expression and how that wheel might break if you apply any more pressure, I get the assumption you’re upset.”

There it was.

Gavin took a moment before answering. “When the fuck were you gonna tell me ‘bout the State Department?”

“I’m... sorry?” he said, frowning.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I didn’t see it relevant,” he replied, crossing his arms. “You’re not opposed to working alone, so if I wasn’t there one day, I know you’d be capable of putting two-and-two together. Besides, it’s very likely you’d be assigned another partner. Human or android.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, you’re the only android I tolerate.”

“We didn’t exactly start off on the right foot, either. I have no doubt you’d grow accustomed to someone different.”

Gavin pressed his lips together. “Why leave?”

“I was primarily designed for combat and leading capabilities, not detective work. I won’t be able to fully optimize my functions here and Connor is the only assistance the precinct needs. Frankly, me being here serves no purpose. Being CyberLife’s most advanced prototype, the State Department took note, and they believe it beneficial if I was to lead my own unit. Be a front-line fighter.”

“...and this is what you want? It’s not just your program talking?”

Nines’ answer wasn’t immediate. “I don’t know. I think so. What I wanted to be when I was deviant was to feel useful, and despite Connor caring for me, I know he feels obsolete in my presence. It wouldn’t be right to stay.”

“Connor is gonna be fine. This is about _you,_ dipshit. What _you_ want _right now.”_

“I don’t know what I want and it suits me just fine.”

Because he wasn’t deviant.

“So, that it? No second thoughts?”

“None,” he replied, marking the end of said conversation. “Why, exactly, are you asking me this?”

“Just a debrief on consequences. Life’s complicated. Damn thing keeps throwing curveballs, and before you know it, it’s too late to go back. Sometimes walking out that door is all it takes for it to permanently close back shut behind you. Take it from the guy who left at 16 because he didn’t wanna deal with a drug addict and look where that got him.”

“It’s never too late to reconcile with your father, Gavin. It’s about being willing to fix something and not giving up before accomplishing it.”

“Some things can’t be fixed. Accidents happen and time works against you. Say, if my old man died from that heart attack that sent him to the hospital, I never would’ve had the option. Kill a guy and you could never bring him back.”

_...and if you left like everyone else, fuck, I don’t think I’d ever forgive you for it._

It was egoistic of him, he knew that, and that was why he presented him with a choice. Yet he also knew that there were people at the precinct who’d miss him -- Hank, Connor, Tina, Chris... and fuck if Gavin would, too, maybe more than all of them. It was the undeniable truth. The last thing he wanted was for Nines to lose something important to him that he could never get back.

Gavin’s friendship and trust, for once. He knew Nines cared about those things.

Nines spoke up again. “I suppose you’re right. In that case, I’m going to have to take a chance.”

He had his answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** The reason why I chose specifically Birmingham is all thanks to Neil Newbon (Gav's voice and mo-cap actor) being from Birmingham. Neil also had to change his accent in order for people to understand him.


	14. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Don’t pretend like you don’t have the hots for me, toaster.”_  
>  \- Gavin Reed
> 
> ...in which the case of Gavin's past gets closed and one of our leads has a serious revelation.

**GAVIN  
~ DEC 28TH, 2038 * PM 08:45 ~**

The case was a domestic abuse situation in one of the apartments not far from Jimmy’s Bar, the husband being the victim, the wife just having been placed in a patrol car that picked her up in cuffs. Fuck those people that said only women could be the victims in situations like these.

Just as they’d wrapped up, a somewhat familiar voice called out to him.

“Mr. Reed!”

Arching a brow, Gavin turned to see who the voice belonged to. What he saw was unexpected. It was the woman from Jimmy’s he’d helped a month back who seemed really happy to see him. He felt as if he’d been caught red-handed. _Fuck, what was her name again? Loretta? Lauren? Laura?_ Laura Mason. That was it. They’d exchanged names when waiting for the cab to pick her up.

Gavin blinked. “There’s a face I didn’t expect to see. Uh... Laura Mason right?”

“Oh,” she said, her cheeks coloring ever so slightly. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t’ve expected you -I mean... you’re a cop. I bet you deal with a lot of names on a daily basis.”

“More than I can count. I remembered, though. Just say ‘detective.’ I hear ‘Reed’ enough when the boss is yelling at me.”

“I take it you get yelled at a lot?”

“What gave it away?”

“You look the roguish type, is all.”

Gavin put a dramatic hand to his heart. “Fuuuck, now I’m personally offended. Just had to take a stab at my rugged good looks, huh?” he joked, resulting in her laugh. He took note of Nines’ curious expression in his peripheral vision and Gavin gestured to him. “Probably saw him back at the bar -- kinda hard to miss -- but this is my partner. Nines. We’ve just wrapped up a case.”

“I remember. Hello,” she said politely. Nines nodded, returning a smile the best he could. More like a confused lip-twitch. Fuck, he had to work on that. Laura shifted. “He’s... not really a talker, is he?”

“His social relations program could use some work. Kinda like the silent, brooding type.”

“Well, every girl likes a silent brooder. Very mysterious, and I admit, a tad bit intimidating. In a good way,” she replied with a smile, before her full attention was back on Gavin. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“Could say the same about you. Your visit to Jimmy’s wasn’t exactly a pleasant one.”

She sighed. “There’s Vince Brinks for you. I’m just passing through with my dad and sister. It was a happy coincidence that I saw you.”

Gavin froze.

“Wait, did you say Brinks?”

“Uh, yeah. Vince was my neighbor. In Birmingham,” she replied, adjusting the purse strap she had over her shoulder. “He lives here in Detroit, now. I’m simply visiting family for the holidays.”

Giving Nines a look, he watched as his brows shot up in mild surprise. The coincidence was too big to ignore.

“Any chance his father was named Jonathan?” Gavin asked.

Her face fell ever so slightly. “His uncle was. They were close. Why? Is something wrong?”

“Could be relevant to an ongoing investigation,” he said, convinced now. “Unless you’ve got the time to come with us to the station, is there anywhere we could talk in private? We’d like to ask you a couple questions.”

“Oh. Of course! It’s the least I can do,” she replied, her face lighting up. “With a car, my parents live just 15 minutes from here.”

“That works.”

“I’m just going to inform my dad,” she said, shooting a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of a pharmacy store. “Two minutes. Wait here?”

When Gavin nodded in reply, she excused herself and set course for said store. He pocketed his hands and directed his gaze elsewhere, watching a couple patrons flowing in and out of Jimmy’s. They might’ve just hit jackpot. Vince’s last name was Brinks, he lived in Birmingham in his youth, and had an uncle named Jonathan. Vince’s father must’ve been Quinten who framed Gavin’s father back in 06. Vince, possibly, found out about the espionage and used it to pick up where Quinten left off. If lucky, they’d have the case solved by the end of the day.

It was a good time for a quick debriefing, but when he turned his head, he saw that Nines -- hands pocketed as always -- had donned a wistful expression as he followed Laura with his eyes. Reaching up, Gavin gently grasped Nines’ chin and turned his head to obtain eye contact.

“Earth to Terminator,” he said, dropping his hand. “You blue-screening on me again, tin can?”

Nines blinked, his LED momentarily flickering yellow, shifting his weight to his other leg. He held his gaze before averting them again.

“She’s quite attractive.”

He couldn’t tell. She was easy on the eyes, yes, but Gavin didn’t find her attractive. There was a difference. Yet, Nines stating that couldn’t help but make him feel somewhat uncomfortable. The reason why was unknown even to him.

It was a topic he didn’t delve further into.

Gavin let out a scoff. “Why, you wanna ask her out?”

“It’s merely an observation. Besides, her undivided attention is obviously directed at you.”

“What can I say? I’m irresistible,” he replied with a confident smirk, playfully nudging Nines with an elbow before following up with a tease. “Don’t pretend like you don’t have the hots for me, toaster.”

“No accounting for taste.”

“Those guys I’ve been hilt-deep in seem to disagree.”

“I don’t think a switchblade counts, sergeant.”

Dumbfounded, Gavin stared at him. “You know I’m talking about my di -?”

“Yes, Gavin, I know,” he deadpanned, appearing to fight the urge to roll his eyes. “Please don’t finish that sentence. We’re in public.”

“All right, pastor,” he joked, taking a drag of his cigarette. Then he physically placed himself between the pharmacy store and Nines’ line of vision. Nines arched a curious brow at him, and as planned, Gavin gained his full attention to give him the doe eyes. “You’re breaking my heart, tin can. I’m right here. What, I’m not sexy enough for you?”

“I’m trying not to think about you in a sexual sense. It’s called ‘workplace professionalism.’ Maybe you’ve heard of it.”

“Whoa, whoa,” he interrupted, tone dancing with amusement as he held up a hand to stop him. _“Trying?”_ Nines maintained his composure and seemed unbothered. “That’s one hell of a Freudian slip, Niner.”

One that boosted his ego.

“Big word.”

Gavin whistled. “You’re so mean. It’s kinda hot,” he teased, Nines giving him an unimpressed, and fond, look. “Didn’t answer my question, though.”

Icy grey looked him up and down before Nines released a hand from one of his pockets and made a ‘turn’ motion with it. Gavin happily obliged. Propping the cigarette between his lips, he parted his arms, doing a 360.

“I’ll give you a seven.”

 _“Seven?”_ he repeated, mocking offense. “I’m at least a fucking eight.”

In response, Nines gingerly took the cigarette from his mouth before letting it drop to the ground and stomping it.

“Now it’s a ten.”

“Here I thought smoking made me sexier.”

“I’m an advanced prototype. I calculate the lifespan of a partner,” he replied, reaching up to grasp the sides of Gavin’s leather jacket to straighten it. Gavin gave him the side-eye. “The longer I get to spend with them the better and smoking takes years away.”

“Fuck, Nines, you’re gonna make me cry,” he joked, and this time, Nines was unable to resist the roll of icy grey eyes as he released said jacket. Gavin moved his own towards the pharmacy store as he saw Laura exiting. “The fuck didn’t you tell me the asshole back at Jimmy’s was named Vince _Brinks,_ by the way? Kinda relevant. Would’ve spared us the extra legwork.”

“He wasn’t relevant to our then investigation and arrived after I scanned the bar, thus never had a name. I can’t help but regret that now.”

Gavin shook his head. “You couldn’t’ve known.”

Not before long, Laura was by their side.

“Sorry about that. My dad would worry sick if I just disappeared.”

Nines took the word. “While you follow up on this lead, I’ll ask a few questions at Jimmy’s.”

“You sure?” Gavin asked.

“Certainly. Take your time, sergeant,” he replied as he began to move, winking like he was born to do it. “I’ll call a cab.”

_The fuck was that about?_

Turning back to her, Gavin tilted his head in the direction of his car. “C’mon.”

Laura fell into his steps.

Clicking the button on his keychain, the car lights blinked and was unlocked, Gavin pulling up the door for her. She offered a “thanks” before he rounded the car and plopped into the driver’s seat. He wasn’t about to grill her with questions on their way over, so he let the radio play, not a big fan of complete silence. Only with Nines, Tina and Chris didn’t he feel awkward about it.

* * *

**~ DEC 28TH, 2038 * PM 09:03 ~**

When nearing the address, Gavin saw her fidgeting in his peripheral vision. Her nails, purse, whatever she could find. He lowered the volume enough to hear her clearly before asking.

“You okay?”

Laura snapped out of it. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just... a bit confused what’s going on.”

“Can’t say too much, but Vince might’ve framed the guy you’ve been seeing all over the news lately.”

She took a moment to digest that. “Wow, I’m... wow. Vince might be pushy and a total asshole, but this? I never would’ve thought.”

“Like I said, _might’ve,_ ” he corrected her, squinting through the windshield. “This the place?”

“Yes, right there. The white one.”

Shortly after, he pulled up outside of the parking garage. The neighborhood was quiet. Across the road, some guy was taking out the trash, the sound of metal emerging as he put the lid back on. The man then turned on his heel and returned to his home. Laura stepped up to the door first, rummaging through her purse as a few muffled curses escaped her.

“Forgot your keys?”

“Dammit, I didn’t take them with me. Hold on. My mom should be home.”

Laura rang the doorbell, her hand on her hip as she waited. It wasn’t long before the door swung open. The relief washing over her face was easily noticeable. Her mom, however, sported a rather surprised expression when her eyes landed on Gavin.

She gave her daughter a mildly amused look. “Now, what’s going on here?”

“Not what you’re thinking,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “He’s a cop. If you’re done interrogating me, can we head inside? It’s freezing out here.”

“Cop? What in the world have you gotten yourself into now?”

“Nothing like that, ma’am,” Gavin interrupted, holding up a hand. “My name’s Gavin Reed. The DPD is investigating a confidential case and your daughter may have some information we could use.”

“Oh, I see,” she replied, stepping aside and letting them enter. “Would you like some coffee, officer?”

“Detective... and no thanks. I won’t be long.”

It was a quaint home, certainly more artistic than most houses, paintings littering the walls. From what he could tell, many of them were made by Carl Manfred. He could easily recognize the style from back when he investigated the painter’s home.

Laura gestured to the direction of the living room couch. He was tired and only when he fell into it did he realize, feeling as if he’d been walking for days, although it hadn’t been more than maybe twenty minutes in total the entire day. Sleep deprivation and insomnia was a bitch. This entire investigation had worn him out in other ways, too. The situation was too personal.

Then there was Nines knowing about all of it. That was another anomaly.

At first, he regretted opening his mouth at all. Regretted letting him in on his life and what made him into the man he was today. Then Nines’ pep talk came after, and fuck, his concerns vanished. He was glad to get all that off his chest and Nines didn’t judge. He just listened, gave him a slight scolding about the issue regarding his mom, but that was it. He actually understood and it proved that Nines had a lot of empathy these days. Looking back at that shell of Nines’ former self, it was almost scary how much had changed.

Nines still had that pole up his ass -- ninety percent of the time looking like he was bored to death -- but there was change. Big ones. The more time passed, the more empathetic he became, and Gavin couldn’t help but wonder just how many firewalls he had left. How close he was to deviate. It wasn’t any of his business, he knew that, but curiosity got the better of him. All he knew was that Nines wanted to remain a machine and Gavin couldn’t say that he agreed with that choice. Then again, it was Nines’ life. Not his. He was his own person.

Yet, Nines couldn’t disobey. Couldn’t say ‘no.’ That was what didn’t sit well with him.

He was worried the State Department would abuse that control when he fell into their ranks. They could literally order him to throw himself over a grenade and he’d have no choice but to do it. Gavin didn’t want to think about that, but it proved difficult not to. The image of Nines’ dead body, lying in a pool of his own thirium, was an image that wouldn’t leave him.

Frankly, it scared him.

“Lacey!”

A ragdoll cat jumped up on the couch and tore him from his thoughts like a saving grace. It started purring in his lap.

Gavin petted the feline. “I really don’t mind.”

“You have a cat?”

“A puppy. Schipperke. Acts like a cat, though,” he replied, looking up to face Laura again as he scratched the cat under her chin. More purring. He realized just how much he missed Socks. “I won’t take up much of your time, but whatever information you have on the Brinks family could be crucial. You said this Vince was your neighbor in Birmingham?”

Laura sat down opposite him. “Yeah, that’s right,” she said, clasping her hands in her lap. “I detect a hint of Brummie in your accent, too.”

“I grew up there. It’s a big place, but word tends to go around,” he said, needing to be careful with his words. “As for Vince’s uncle, you mentioned he was named Jonathan? That they were close?”

“Yes. He worked for the FBI if I remember correctly. He died in... 2006, I think? Messy business.”

“Vince’s father’s name was Quinten, I take it?” he asked, Laura nodding. It was definitely the same guy. “What can you tell me about Vince?”

“Aside from being a total dick? He’s been making advances for as long as I can remember. Been married for five years and has a two-year-old son. I’ve been too scared to tell his wife about it. He frightens me.”

“...and you didn’t call the cops on him?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t wanna risk it. He’s too unstable. Didn’t wanna get in between him and his wife, either. Breaking up families isn’t exactly something I have the right to do. I hear he’s been on rehab for red ice the past few months,” she replied, fidgeting with her hands again. “I had no idea he would be involved in any of this. I don’t understand, like... what connection does he have to this man? I can’t remember ever seeing him and Vince and I grew up together. Why would he ruin his life like that?”

“The guy you see on the news was the detective working the case of Jonathan Brinks’ homicide,” he said, her scrounged up features softening out in mild surprise. “He found illegal documents on the scene, had it delivered to the Birmingham Police Department, but Quinten wanted to clear his brother’s name. Became an accomplice. Back in 06, he framed the detective for a murder. He managed to prove to the higher-ups that he was innocent, though, and walked out a free man... but now the case reemerged with fake ‘evidence’.”

“How do you know?”

“That’s classified, I’m afraid. I suspect that Vince found out about his father’s failed attempt to get the detective out of the picture and picked up where he left off. After all, you said he was close to his uncle.”

Her face fell. “Vince worshipped Jonathan. He’d do anything for him, it’s just... a lot to take in.”

“You know where he lives?”

“Lafayette Avenue.”

After a few more questions that took a good 10-15 minutes, he left the establishment and was wished good luck.

* * *

**NINES  
~ DEC 28TH, 2038 * PM 09:47 ~**

“You were home early.”

It was the first thing Nines spoke when he was picked up at the apartment.

“...and you pissed off quickly. The fuck wouldn’t I be?” he replied, Nines crossing his arms and arching an unimpressed brow. Realization dawned on Gavin’s features. “Wait, hold the phone. Were you trying to hook us up?”

“For being a detective, you’re quite slow on the uptake.”

“Okay, fuck you.”

“Maybe later if you behave.”

“You’re lucky I’ve gotta focus on the driving, tin can. That coffee would’ve been all over you otherwise.”

“Kinky. I wasn’t aware you were a fan of food play,” he deadpanned, not even making an effort to dodge the punch Gavin landed on his shoulder. He flashed a smirk seeing Gavin’s appearing grin. “After what you told me on Thursday, I made the assumption you could benefit from a relationship. Observation had me arrive at the conclusion that you were interested in return.”

“I don’t swing that way, smartass,” he said, probably seeing the wheels turning in Nines’ head. “That wasn’t _serious_ flirting. It’s a way to get people to lower their guard. Fuck, you and I have been doing the same thing for weeks.”

“My mistake. I admit, it’s... quite confusing to me.”

“Flirting?”

“Attraction other than physical. Using Echo and Ripple as an example, as well as Markus and Simon, I know androids are capable of it.”

“Wait, Robo-Jesus and the blonde one?” he asked rhetorically, giving him a brief look. “Would you look at that... you really went all-in with the whole ‘androids don’t feel anything’ red herring back on the roof.”

“Amanda would have me decommissioned otherwise. My point stands, though.”

“Since when did my sex life become so important to you?”

“Not specifically your sex life, but for that in particular... estimated two weeks, three days, 18 hours, six minutes, 15 milliseconds.”

Gavin just stared at him wide-eyed.

“Wha -?” he tried, before snapping his attention back to the road. “That’s weirdly fucking specific. You keeping tabs on me?”

“No, but you had a tendency to make quite the unintentional racket not to interrupt my stasis when returning home from your nightly visits. It’s been quiet ever since and thus it’s apparent you stopped.”

“When I’m nearly working 24/7, I don’t exactly have time for it.”

“I suspect the same goes for a relationship.”

“Sounds ‘bout right. Besides, I don’t do those anymore. It’s too messy. Bad experience. Let’s leave it at that.”

So he did, at least for now.

It wasn’t long before they arrived at Vince’s home. Standing outside having just rung the doorbell, he couldn’t help but notice the tightness of Gavin’s shoulders. His expression was just as hard. Nines knew how it felt to be personally targeted as his own situation with CyberLife -- and that other RK900 -- wasn’t all that different. Both ruined their lives in different ways. Vince ruining Gavin’s reputation and that RK900 possibly targeting Nines’ life. Gavin had debriefed him on what Laura told him, and yet, he was left with questions.

The sound of a door opening caught his ear.

Moving his gaze, Nines saw a young woman step up to the frame with a little boy on her hip. Vince was indeed married and had a child. There was a confused expression on her face as her eyes darted between them.

“Mrs. Brinks? Name’s Gavin Reed, and this is my partner, Nines. We’re from the DPD. Is your husband home?”

“Not at the moment, no, but he should be back from work soon. You’re free to wait,” she replied, stepping aside for them to enter the household. “Laura told me you were coming. Is this about the entire red ice ordeal? Vince claims to have been on rehab for a couple months, but I doubt he’s telling the truth. I admit I’ve had my suspicions.”

Gavin searched the room with his eyes. “One of the reasons we’re here, yeah. What makes you think he’s lying?”

“He’s been acting... well, aggressive, recently. Occupied. Much like how he was acting under the influence. He hasn’t hurt anyone, though. At least not to my knowledge. I’ve brought it up to him, but he keeps ignoring the issue.”

“You know of his supposed obsession with Laura Mason?”

“Yes, I’m aware. Vince denied it when I asked about her, but I’m not stupid.”

“...and you’re okay with this?”

She shook her head. “If it wasn’t for my son, I’d leave Vince in a heartbeat. Growing up without a father isn’t something I’d want for him.”

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, ma’am, but trust me when I say this... your son would be better off,” he replied, her face falling ever so slightly. “An absent father is far better than a bad one.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” she asked, adjusting the child on her hip. He nodded. “I... I’ll think about it. I’ve had for a while.”

Nines spoke. “That’s not the only reason why we’re here. Your husband might be responsible for framing a man for a crime worthy of death row.”

“He... he what?” she asked, eyes wide.

“According to Mason, Vince was close to his uncle Jonathan Brinks. After Jonathan was killed in 06, his crime scene investigated, he was found guilty of a serious crime via encrypted documents. The man who found the evidence was a detective, and Quinten -- Jonathan’s brother -- framed said detective for the murder of the woman in charge of decrypting said documents because of it. A way to get him out of the picture,” Nines clarified, her falling into the couch. “The detective was proven innocent, the case put on ice, but the documents reemerged.”

Gavin crossed his arms. “We suspect Vince somehow got ahold of the evidence, wanted to get back at the detective for finding out and paid someone to have it edited or hidden to clear his uncle’s name.”

“Oh my god...” she muttered, appearing out-of-breath.

“We’re gonna bring him in to the precinct and ask him some questions. For now, we can’t be sure -”

The door swung open.

 _Speaking of the devil,_ Nines mused, the accomplice frozen in the open doorway. Vince had seen Gavin first.

“Would you look at that? Loverboy himself!” Gavin said, clearly enjoying every second of this.

Eyes burning with rage, Vince stepped forward, stopping only when he was a few feet from Gavin. Gavin didn’t budge. Vince clearly didn’t know he was the son of the man he possibly framed, but Nines doubted he’d forgotten that scene at the bar when Gavin pulled him away from Laura. If anything, Vince probably suspected that Gavin was there to inform his wife about it.

“You,” he muttered, venom in his muffled tone. “I swear, if you told her...”

Gavin arched an innocent brow. “You’ve gotta be more specific, buddy. The red ice, you stalking Laura Mason, or... oh, I don’t know, the fact that you framed my fucking father for espionage? Take your pick.”

Vince went pale as snow. With that look alone, Nines could tell they had their culprit. Gavin clicked the handcuffs off his belt and threw them over.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, if that’s true, you wouldn’t mind coming with us to the DPD.”

“Listen here, you piece of shi -Ow, hey!”

Vince had taken a step forward and was simply yanked back. What followed was Nines throwing him into the wall, cheek pressed against it, the loud curses proving that he very much felt pain from the force Nines applied as his cheek rifted. _Good._ With a click, he had the metal slapped around his wrist. For all the problems he’d caused, Nines was ready to snap him in half.

The look he gave Gavin to ask for permission to do just that revealed his intentions. Gavin, however, shook his head. _Pity._ Vince didn’t have a chance as his other arm was forced behind his back and attached to his other.

“I suggest you cooperate,” Nines said, peeking up beneath his lashes. “Wouldn’t want to make a scene in front of your family, would you?”

Forcibly yanking him away from the wall again that was almost enough to dislocate a shoulder, another fit of curses followed.

“Easy, Nines. Buddy boy’s not going anywhere.”

“Wasn’t it for my partner, you’d be dead. Give him some credit,” Nines said nonplussed.

The fear became apparent in Vince’s eyes.

Despite Gavin’s intervention, rage returned when Vince glared back at him. His wife had her kid’s face turned away and to her chest, and luckily, he was too young to understand. There was some resistance, but Nines led Vince outside. Gavin exchanged a few words with Mrs. Brinks -- said something and ruffled the kid’s hair, resulting in the kid and his mom smiling, which revealed how good Gavin was with kids -- before he as well approached the car. The suspect didn’t waste another moment to begin berating him again.

“You won’t get away with thi -”

Having heard enough, Nines landed a swift hit at a spot on the back of Vince’s neck who immediately dropped to the ground.

Gavin puffed a laugh. “Oh, shit!” he exclaimed, visibly amused. Gavin stared down at the unmoving body and brushed a thumb against his own bottom lip. “You didn’t hurt him too bad, right?”

“Besides his pride? No. Give it two minutes,” Nines replied, throwing the unconscious man over his shoulder in a fireman carry.

A full-on laugh emerged from Gavin then.

It was a sound Nines wouldn’t mind hearing more often.

* * *

**~ DEC 28TH, 2038 * PM 09:37 ~**

Once Vince regained consciousness and they got to the interrogation room, Gavin didn’t waste another moment to get his answers.

He slapped down the documents in front of him. “How’d you get these?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, so these just magically popped into your possession?” Gavin expressed his sarcasm, a scowl touching his brow. “Listen, jackass. I could do this all day. If you won’t talk, we’ll make you talk.”

“You’re a fucking cop. You can’t do shit.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” he replied, before gesturing to Nines “...but he can. I could always blame ‘an incident’ on a faulty android. All it takes is just a minor slip up. Maybe a beating that just got slightly out of hand because of faulty wiring. Can’t blame me for that, and I fucking promise you, I’ve got plenty reasons to want you dead. So speak the fuck up.”

Vince swallowed hard. “The answer is still, ‘I don’t know’.”

For a moment, Gavin just glared. So did Nines and he came to a conclusion.

“He’s telling the truth.”

“Then who the fuck sent it to you?” Gavin demanded.

“I don’t. Know,” Vince repeated, sticking to his story. “The sender of the email was anonymous. I just gave the documents to the Feds.”

Nines took the word. “If I see the email, I could identify the culprit. Do you have it?”

“Tell your plastic pet to stay outta this.”

“My ‘plastic pet’ can intervene whenever the fuck he please, so you better cooperate,” Gavin replied as he stood, palming his hands on the table to get face-to-face with Vince. “Answer him before I knock your teeth in.”

Vince scowled. “No, asshole, I don’t have the fucking email. I deleted the damn thing.”

Again, he wasn’t lying.

“Fucking hell,” Gavin muttered, bowing his head before looking to Nines. “This is all we’ve got to work with. Any suggestions?”

“I could locate the deleted archive. His phone?”

When reaching out, Gavin handed over the device found among the evidence. Nothing on the internet ever disappeared fully. If it was first out there, it was out there, and nothing could prevent that. A quick scan revealed exactly what they needed.

> **TO:** BRINKS, VINCE  
>  **FROM:** #313 248 317 - 88  
> 

“Got it?”

Nines clenched his jaw. “RK900 #313 248 317 - 88. The android responsible for the murder of Lewis’ wife and the same android who nearly killed me,” he replied, Gavin’s face falling ever so slightly. It all connected. “As for why CyberLife would target you and your father, your guess is as good as mine. At least now we know why there’s been radio silence from him for so long. Still, he could’ve done all this far sooner and must have another reason for choosing not to strike yet. I can’t logically place his reasoning.”

Eighty-Eight had used Vince Brinks as bait by giving him those documents. That much he knew. Nevertheless, Nines had no idea why. CyberLife wanted Nines dead and thus it didn’t make sense they’d target Gavin.

Blackmail, perhaps.

The RK900 had been sloppy and that was what didn’t sit well with him. With more careful planning on Eighty-Eight’s side, they never would’ve figured out who targeted Gavin’s father in the first place. Nines was convinced that this RK900 wanted them to solve the case and it left even more questions. Eighty-Eight certainly wasn’t an ally -- the fact that he’d nearly killed Nines not too long ago, had those espionage documents reemerge, and paid someone off to have them edited with CyberLife’s funds proved that -- so Nines had insufficient data.

If Eighty-Eight wasn’t a machine, he would’ve suspected they were being toyed with. Hunted for sport.

For some reason, CyberLife wanted this exact result.

Gavin pushed from the table.

“We’ve got our confession. Nice work,” he said, giving Nines’ shoulder a friendly squeeze before turning back to Vince. “You’re looking at a lifetime behind bars, Brinks. Get comfy.”

As the night carried on, he couldn’t help but notice how Gavin seemed far happier. Stopping Brinks must’ve been a relief.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[[[[[[[[[[/10- RA9.exe -10/]]]]]]]]]]

Fowler, however, wasn’t happy at all. They had to explain that they’d gone behind his back to solve this case. When a detective was directly involved, they weren’t allowed to partake in the investigation -- something about it being too personal for rational thinking. Gavin proved just how competent of a detective he was by not letting said personal involvement affect his reasoning and actions. Thankfully, Fowler understood, and Gavin managed to keep his badge. He did get a disciplinary warning despite Nines’ gentle protest, though.

They’d solved a case -- prevented an innocent man from being sentenced to death -- and that didn’t go unnoticed.

* * *

**GAVIN  
~ DEC 28TH, 2038 * PM 11:45 ~**

Ready to do their final inning for the day, Gavin had first retreated to the break room to get a coffee in order to stay awake. The familiar, bitter scent -- a mild smell his leather jacket had absorbed -- was a permanent addition and he couldn’t say he minded it. Tina was there and curiosity got ahold of her, so he debriefed her about what happened while excluding unnecessary details. If he informed her about everything that he’d told Nines when seated on his car hood, he’d never hear the end of it. Part of him was still too stubborn to accept defeat.

One story led to another and they ended up talking about a case five years ago.

Feeling his hips grasped by lithe fingers and pulled towards a solid form, a brief panic washed over him. Gavin shot a look over his shoulder only to see that it was Nines. He could breathe out.

“Fucking ‘hey’ to you too, toaster.”

“Straighten your back, sergeant. You’re standing like a slut.”

Tina guffawed. “Finally someone said it!”

“Look, I’m just waiting for Prince Charming to give me a good time. You’re blocking the view,” Gavin teased.

Arching an exasperated brow, Nines released him and settled in the chair to his left where he crossed his arms.

“First gay crush?” Tina asked in amusement.

Gavin shrugged. “In the third film, no doubt. Pretty sure I got my first boner during that ‘lodging the knife in the sail’ scene when he came for Cinderella. Guy didn’t have much of a personality in the first one.”

“Well, Nines’ got the disheveled hair tuft nailed down... _and_ the knife.”

“Shit, you’re right,” he replied, nudging him with his hip. Nines rolled his eyes and Gavin pushed the back of his palm against the RK900 logo. “As I was saying, the suspect made his life way harder than it had to be. All he had to do was shut his fucking mouth and he would get out in, like, a month or two. His crime wasn’t big enough for a longer sentence until he just ‘bout dug his own grave. Tried to avoid the arrest.”

“I don’t recall any of this,” Nines commented.

Taken aback by the interruption, Gavin turned his attention to him. “What? Oh, fuck. Your display back there with Brinks just reminded me of a case I solved a few years back. You weren’t even born yet.”

“You couldn’t have chosen an any less derogatory way of putting it?”

“Aww, did I hurt your feelings again?” he teased, reaching up to brush a thumb against the side of Nines’ mouth. “Tell you what, I’ll show you.”

Gavin put down his coffee, took a few steps back onto the open floor and gestured him over.

“Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”

“What, don’t you trust me?” he asked rhetorically, palms open. Gavin gave Nines’ thigh a whack to get him moving. “Hurry the fuck up, we don’t have all day. Put some hustle to those legs.”

Nines pushed away from the table. Palm supporting her chin on the surface, Tina watched them with interest despite looking tired.

Gavin lightly kicked against the inside of Nines’ foot to part his feet slightly.

He obliged. “What do you need me to do?”

“Pretty simple, tin can. Just throw a punch at me. Right hook,” he replied as he pointed to his cheek, Nines giving him a look. “Trust me. Just don’t do any of those follow-up moves you usually do. A simple punch, okay?”

So Nines swung.

Thanks to the training, he caught it, twisting it behind Nines’ back. Nines humored him. The inside of Gavin’s right foot paralleled the inside of Nines’ foot, Gavin’s hip side pushing lightly against Nines’. Nines arm, however, he kept pinned behind his back. His programming probably informed him that there were about a dozen ways to get out of such a situation, but he knew Gavin wanted him passive.

Gavin caught Tina’s eye over his own shoulder. “So I got the suspect in this hold, right? Apparently he was convinced the hit would land, and when it didn’t, he had no idea what the fuck to do. You should’ve seen the look on his face,” he said, his enthusiasm shining through. “Before I knew it, he starts making an attempt to wriggle out. It was fucking annoying. So I added, like, a tiny bit of force to his arm to still him. He got all dramatic and fucking _squirmed_ before he just dropped. You’ll never guess what happened.”

“He gave you a blowjob?” she joked.

“That’d be an outcome I certainly wouldn’t expect,” Nines joined in, getting down on his knees. “I can’t help but imagine such a demonstration would be inappropriate in the middle of the break room, though.”

“Fuck, that’d get the precinct talking for months,” Gavin replied with a grin, tilting up Nines’ head. “Bet it’s a good look on you, so feel free.”

“In your dreams, sergeant.”

“Okay, ouch?” he feigned offense, before getting back to his story. “So what actually happened is that he dropped so fucking quickly his head just lodged right into a steam pipe, knocking him out cold.”

“Oww!” Tina exclaimed, closing her eyes as if to suppress the image.

“It was fucking hilarious, and get this, he dropped on purpose so he could report me for assault! Thing is, that pipe wasn’t part of his plan.”

As Tina broke out laughing, Gavin helped Nines back up on his feet.

“I suspect his sentence increased considerably for wrongly accusing a police officer,” Nines said.

“Sure did. From two months to two years. I even got a promotion for it.”

Settling back against the table and finishing the remainder of his coffee in one go, the adrenaline of his enthusiasm had worn off -- having been all over the place telling his story -- and so did the caffeine. Gavin was tired. Insomnia had been an issue ever since his teenage years, moving out at the age of 16, realizing he had to make a life for himself. He started with energy drinks before switching to coffee. The two had gone for days without Gavin getting any sleep whatsoever and he was now really feeling it.

Nines, as always, took note. “You should let me take you home, Gavin.”

Part of him wanted to argue while the other knew that coffee could only do so much. He was more agreeable when he needed shut-eye. After all, their icebreaker was back when he -- tired as hell -- first found Nines at his apartment.

“An hour, all right? I’ve got a report due tomorrow.”

“Thirty minutes,” Nines decided for him, taking the empty cup out of his hand before Gavin could think about refilling it. Gavin didn’t even have the energy to react. “I’ll take care of it if you’re unable to finish.”

There was something unbelievably hot about Nines putting down his foot like that.

He was already gone when Gavin opened his mouth to protest. To kick-start the process, probably. Find the document and have it ready for him. Maybe it was for the best. Gavin had always blamed Hank for showing up drunk to the DPD and putting his coworkers in danger because of it. What Gavin himself was doing -- with the entire insomnia thing -- was just as bad.

Hypocritical of him, he realized that now.

“Gav, wow, you’re so head-over-heels that you don’t even see it.”

Gavin frowned. “I’m what now?”

“The touches, the teasing, the flirting... the fucking thigh-and-butt slaps? You’re literally glued to him,” she said, Gavin letting out a scoff as he averted his eyes. “Any excuse to touch him is a good one to you. Not to mention he was all heart-eyes when you went off with that story of yours. Fuck, just ask him. Make sure you keep in contact after he leaves for the State Department.”

“Not fucking happening, Ti.”

“Oh, come on. I thought you got rid of that android hate-boner of yours.”

“No, fuck, I didn’t mean it like... Jesus, not like that. I have, all right? I fucking have.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“There’s no issue,” he bit back, scowling lightly as he pushed away from the table. “I’m just not into Nin -”

Body freezing solid, it was as if he’d run straight into a brick wall. Denial was a powerful thing. Pressing his palms together, he brought the tips of his fingers to his lips, wide eyes darting as he stared into nothing.

_Oh. Oh, PHCK._

Tina groaned. “Holy shit, you actually didn’t know?” she exclaimed, fishing up her phone again. “Seriously, when was your last lay?”

“What? Fuck, almost three weeks. Why?” he asked with mild annoyance, Tina briefly looking up underneath her lashes to give him an unimpressed look. He realized what she meant. “No, no fucking way. It’s _not_ been going on for that long. I haven’t had the time to dip out. It’s the fucking insomnia, Ti. I haven’t slept in four days. My brain is a mess right now.”

His phone pinged and Tina looked at him expectantly as she pocketed hers again.

Not knowing what she was playing at, Gavin gave her a light glare and shuffled it out of his leather jacket. He unlocked the screen, opened the message, and saw the image Tina had just sent him.

Him and Nines. Like, five minutes ago.

“Just look at your smile, Gav, you’re so happy!”

Gavin just stared at her in shock. “Fucking hell, Tina. How did you even take that?”

“Well, _of course_ you didn’t notice. You were too busy eye-fucking Robocop,” she replied, dramatically rolling her own eyes. “I’m a lifetime subscriber to Gavin Reed’s happiness and I will forever cherish this image.”

“Wanna make me happy? Delete it.”

“No can do, bitch. Blackmail,” she replied, smirking. “You’ve wanted to bone him since day one. Or _get_ boned, more like. He’s totally a top.”

“Fuck no, I’m not getting dicked down by anyone.”

“Not with that attitude you won’t,” she murmured, Gavin flipping her off knowing he’d just lost the argument. “Okay, first of all, rude.”

“Ti -”

“Look, Gav, sweetie,” she interrupted, cupping his face like that ‘idiot sandwich’ meme. Gavin just glared while she made sure to maintain eye-contact. “I’ve known you long enough to realize what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. Remember high school? This is the exact same thing... and back then you were even in the middle of puberty, Gav! Nines is your exact type.”

“The fuck does that have to do with anything?” he said, removing her hands. “I’m not going through this shit again.”

“You wanna become a crazy cat lady, is that it?”

“Yes.”

Tina sighed unnecessary loud. “You’re infuriating at times, you know that? Well, fuck, I’m not giving up that easily,” she replied, grabbing Gavin’s arm in an iron grip when he made an attempt to just get back to work. “Tell you what. New Year’s Eve is in less than three days. We always go out for drinks, right? This time you ask Nines to be your date. You know I’m bringing Eleanor this year -- and I’m aware you told me you don’t mind that -- but I don’t want you feeling like a third wheel, ‘cause let’s face it, I know you will. This is perfect.”

“Fuck. No.”

“Don’t decide now, dumbass. Three days. Two if you wanna get technical. Don’t be a pussy.”

“Did you not hear me?” he said, stricter now.

Nonchalant, Tina held his glare.

“You’ve gotta get over it someday, Gav,” she muttered, Gavin pressing his lips together and refusing to hold her now concerned gaze. “I know you struggle with attachment and shit, but this thing you’re doing? This ‘strong, independent tough-guy who don’t need no man’ bull-crap has got to end. I’m not letting you kill yourself over it anymore. Nines isn’t Craig. He’s not gonna end up at the other side of the barrel and you’re not gonna have to put him behind bars. You’re not still thinking that he’s just warming up to you to get to Connor, right?”

“Of-fucking-course not. Hell, I trust you and the stoic toaster more than anyone.”

“Then stop telling yourself that he’ll fuck you over. CyberLife has no control over him anymore and I can see that he cares about you... he also cares about me, and Connor, Hank, and Chris. Fuck, I’ll bet an entire year’s pay that the reason why you’ve been giving him such a hard time is that he’s got more power over you than anyone... and not in the sexy way.” Power because he knew of Gavin’s past. Like always, Tina was right. Nines did know more than anyone and he realized it scared him. “Just think about it -”

At the abrupt end of her sentence, her eyes went wide. She was looking straight past him. Gavin turned and utter horror enveloped his entire being as he saw what she was looking at.

Shoulder casually pressed up against the side of the doorway frame, Nines’ hands were pocketed in his jeans.

His body went cold.

Absentmindedly, Tina shuffled up her jacket. “All right, that’s the sign for me to dip out.”

Gavin shot her an icy glare, shortly turning into a look of desperation as she made a move to leave.

“Tina. Ti. Ti, hey, no,” he begged as she rose from her seat, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around just as she tried to push past. Gavin placed her between him and Nines. “Don’t you fucking dare piss off right now.”

She patted his cheek. “You’ll be fine, douchebag.”

Cursing under his breath, he had no choice but to let go of her. His hand balled into a fist and he refused to look anywhere near the doorway. In his peripheral vision, Tina threw her arms around Nines’ neck for a hug -- who probably looked just as nonplussed, as always, but Gavin didn’t check -- whom he could tell was hugging her back. Propping his hands to the table behind him and leaning to it, Gavin’s eyes closed tightly shut under furrowed brows. This was going to be a shitty conversation regardless of the outcome.

“Have a good night, Tina,” Nines said, his ever-calm voice revealing nothing.

“You too, Robocop. Get him home before he passes out.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Thus she left. Aside from the gentle humming of the fridge -- and the clinking of Tina’s boots retracting -- there was an eerie silence.

He was left with two choices. One, hurt Nines by telling him -- directly -- that he wasn’t interested in a relationship, or two, tell Nines his reasoning for it and -- in the process -- admit he was scared.

Frankly, he didn’t know if he could do the latter.

He was too proud.

Gavin trusted Nines with his life, but despite that, admitting weakness was something he found himself incapable of doing.

Relationships -- especially romantic ones -- was something he attempted to avoid at any cost. The vulnerability that came with, and the power that was given to a significant other, was something he didn’t want to expose himself to again. To give someone the power to hurt and relish in the victory that they’d broken a heart that still tried to recover. Never again would his hurt feed on someone else’s ego, and never again would he let someone use him like that again, so he tread lightly. Didn’t grow attached and didn’t take any chances.

At least he tried not to.

He’d trusted Craig with his life, too. That didn’t stop the guy from hurting him. It left an invisible scar that no amount of plastic surgery could remove. Not that he ever thought of it, though. His scars were part of him -- some prouder than the others -- both physical and mental ones. Despite them not being pretty to look at, he learned from them, reminding him never to repeat his mistakes.

Now strangely conscious of said scars, Gavin absentmindedly ran a thumb over the most prominent one draped across half his face -- briefly removing it from Nines’ prying eyes -- but there was little he could do to hide it.

He wore it as a badge of honor, but it was another insecurity of his.

One of many.

Gavin let his hand drop. “How long you been standing there, tin can?”

He was again leaning to the frame with pocketed hands when Gavin finally built up the courage to meet his eye, and after what just occurred, everything felt different. The air was slowly suffocating him. Gavin’s heartrate had increased, his body burning, and the culprit before him was none the wiser as to why. Nines was indeed his exact type and he was only now realizing it. His confident way of carrying himself. His dark voice. His entire personality. It had been over a decade since he last felt anything like this.

He wanted to run.

Nevertheless, his escape was blocked.

So he endured.

“Since, ‘stop telling yourself that he’ll fuck you over’,” he replied, giving him peace of mind. Gavin could breathe out. The relief was short-lived to a fault, however. “Be that as it may, I do have enhanced hearing. The entire precinct -- as well as the break room -- is within the vicinity regardless of where my unit currently resides in the building.”

The conversation he thought he’d just narrowly escaped was inevitable after all.

“...and?” he demanded, a light hammering at his temples. “You got anything to say to that, dipshit?”

Nines frowned. “I’ve been well-aware of your physical attraction to me since day two, Gavin, and you know that. This isn’t news.”

“Yeah, I fucking know that! Shit was established way back when you broke into my apartm -”

 _Wait, what?_ he mused. Confusion spread on Gavin’s face, mouth opening just to close again. _Physical?_ Realization struck that nothing in his and Tina’s conversation had directly stated the attraction was more than physical. He would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the lump that had yet to leave his throat. ‘Date’ could be interpreted as platonic, after all.

“Yes?” Nines encouraged him to continue, brow arched.

“Forget it.”

His idle -- bored -- expression returning, Nines’ gaze averted. “As for Tina’s heart-eyes comment, I admit, I do find the way you tell your stories quite endearing. How you use your entire body with over-exaggerated hand gestures. Your enthusiasm is... infectious. It’s easy to hold onto every word,” he replied, and something traitorously fluttered in Gavin’s chest when he met his eye again. Nines was silent for a moment before he -- cautiously -- asked his next question. One he’d rather not answer. “Who’s Craig?”

_The guy who made me give up on relationships for good._

“Just an ex,” he replied, folding his arms across his chest. “Guy led an illegal fight club and found out I was a cop, so he got into my pants in order to have me cover for him in case shit hit the fan.”

“Was he ever caught?”

Gavin let out a scoff. “‘Course he was. That was a long time ago. I was a mostly fresh-faced rookie in his middle twenties.”

“I suspect you didn’t know of his illegal activities going in.”

“Not until about the end of our second year. Fucker was in it for the long haul, I’ll give him that. After covering for him for three months, I eventually came to my senses and informed the DPD. Fowler wasn’t happy, but Hank stepped up. Let me go with a disciplinary warning. I was part of the patrol sent to bring ‘em in and got to cuff him. Craig didn’t know I was the one to rat him out, thank fucking god, as I’m sure he would’ve sent some assholes after me. I fucked up. That’s all there is to it.”

“For maintaining a relationship for so long, this Craig must’ve cared despite using you in such a way.”

_Maybe._

“He better have. I gave him the best fucking sex he could ask for.”

With his attempt at lighting up the conversation, Nines seemed to let it rest.

“Should we proceed, then? You still have that report to finish, and as it appears that you’re just about to pass out, time is of the essence.”

“I’m coming, tin can. Just go.”

Shooing him away again, Nines returned to the desk. He could tell him, he knew that, but it wasn’t worth it. Nothing was. Not to mention that Nines didn’t understand any of it. He had told him that himself.

If Gavin was oblivious, Nines topped that by ten, as such emotions were something he never had experienced -- an unknown -- meaning that it scared Nines, too. Nines was a control-freak, through-and-through, with the need to know every contingency. Have seven backup plans. Starting something with an un-deviated android was the literal recipe of disaster and just asking to get hurt. Tina did well with Eleanor who was an ST300, sure, but Eleanor had been deviant for a long time.

Gavin was also far less lucky in his dating life because of how difficult he was.

Not to mention that Nines was leaving in less than two weeks. If it wasn’t for Tina bringing it up in the first place, he’d be in the bliss of denial and ignorance, and now everything was simply falling apart all around him.

He was already miffed about him leaving. Why did the toaster have to complicate matters even more?

After returning to work, Gavin managed to fall asleep on his desk at the 15-minute mark. When he was woken up the next day to see the RK900 jacket draped around his shoulders -- as well as the coffee being placed on his desk and the matter-of-fact, “Good morning, sergeant” in addition -- he knew it was going to be an insufferable few weeks.

Hopefully by January 9th -- when Nines was transferred -- he’d be over it.

He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** ...and thus the (currently one-sided) pining begins. Sorry, Gav. That's what you get for being a dick to my boi Connor. BTW, if you genuinely think that _Cinderella III: A Twist In Time_ was a shit movie, we can't be friends. Fight me (ง •̀_•́)ง
> 
> **Next update:** November 22nd around 02:00 PM (EST.)


	15. New Year's Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Oh, shit. I shouldn’t’ve expected a calm night with Nines. A murder is just around the corner.”_  
>  \- Tina Chen
> 
> ...in which Tina is the best friend ever, we get to meet her girlfriend, things get a bit steamy, Nines is a little shit, and Gavin has his worst (and best) New Year's Eve ever because of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: WARNING!** Implied/Referenced Sexual Situations.

**NINES  
~ DEC 31ST, 2038 * PM 02:15 ~**

They’d continued doing their usual fieldwork in hope something about Eighty-Eight would turn up, but so far, there was nothing. Not even a single sighting. If this carried on, Nines hoped he’d follow him to the State Department and get off the precinct’s back. Nines found himself restless fidgeting with his butterfly knife. It didn’t feel right to leave with his equal still on the loose, but Nines’ transfer couldn’t be delayed because of an upcoming mission requiring his expertise. He could do nothing but wait.

“How many times do I have to tell you that smoking is bad for your health?”

“A couple hundred times more will do,” Gavin said, standing just outside the DPD entrance with a lit cigarette. Nines, in response, yanked it directly from his mouth. “What the -?”

Pressing his shoulder to the wall Gavin was leaning to, Nines propped the smoke between his own teeth. Being an android, he didn’t need to worry about the health implications, so the deadpan expression and unyielding eye contact only bolstered his unspoken statement. Gavin didn’t seem to know how to react as he just looked at him dumbfounded. He was balancing the coffee on his forearm -- arms crossed -- and holding a light enough grip around it for a simple push to knock it over. A month back, Nines would’ve tipped it in spite.

Gavin, skeptically, looked him up and down. “You flirting with me, plastic?”

“Like we’ve done the past couple weeks, yes, obviously,” he deadpanned at the callback to their first sparring session, killing the cigarette stud against the wall before chucking it into a nearby bin. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

“That’s a big word. Not giving you enough attention, huh?” Gavin asked, tone smug with an accompanying smirk. Nines rolling his eyes was the only response. Gavin tilted his head back until it encountered the wall behind him and closed his own. “Just the lack of sleep, tin can. Don’t worry ‘bout it. Nine days and I’m no longer your problem. Hey, _Nines_ days.”

Instincts told him to smack Gavin over the head at that one, but he refrained from doing it.

Nines wasn’t blind to the fact that something had been off about Gavin the past few days. He seemed more closed-off. More guarded. He first flagged it off as nothing but his lack of restful sleep just like the half-assed excuse Gavin just delivered. Now it went beyond that and Nines was starting to get worried. Although Gavin never pulled away when Nines invaded his ‘personal space’ -- a concept unknown to androids -- Gavin always seemed to maintain a respectable distance if he was the one approaching Nines.

He didn’t know why.

“Frankly, that’s what I’m concerned about. Nothing tells me you won’t return to your self-destructive habits the moment I step out the door.”

“You said it yourself... I’m a big boy. I’ll handle it. How’s the case going?”

He was avoiding the topic again. Nines didn’t like it, but he knew asking now wouldn’t get him anywhere. During his time spent with Gavin, persistence would eventually have him crack. It was a waiting game and Nines was good at it.

“As well as one would expect. I can’t say there’s been any progress whatsoever on Eighty-Eight’s whereabouts.”

“Still don’t know why the fuck you keep calling him ‘Eighty-Eight’.”

“His ID. I’m #313 248 317 - 87. He’s 88. You seem to have a preference for wordplay and I don’t know what else to call him.”

“Nines 2.0. Plastic Prick 2.1. Dark Nines. You know, like Dark Link from _The Legend of Zelda?”_

“I’ll stick with ‘Eighty-Eight,’ thank you.”

“Yeah, you’ve always had said stick up your ass. Try to live a little,” he replied, keeping his eyes closed. “I’m heading out for drinks with Ti and her girlfriend tonight. Wanna come?”

“You are aware I don’t drink, correct?”

“Never said you had to, dipshit. Just join. Socialize.”

“For what purpose?”

“What, there has to be a purpose?” he asked, shooting him a mildly annoyed look. “Pretty fucking common to celebrate the New Year.”

“You loathe celebrations.”

“Ti doesn’t. It’s the one night I indulge her and I don’t wanna be third-wheeling.”

Nines took a moment to consider. “Is there a specific dress-code?”

“It’s an inside and outside nightclub. Drop the CyberShit jacket you still insist keeping on and you’re good. Rift’s in your turtleneck, so there’s still a pretty noticeable distinction if your evil twin shows up. Doubt it, though. Guy doesn’t strike me as the partying type,” he said, knocking back the remainder of his coffee. “So you in or what?”

“I suppose I should keep your ass in check.”

“Fucking hell, I’m not a teenager. I know when to stop,” he said with a light scowl, approaching the same bin and shoving the cardboard cup in.

“This is somewhat of a tradition, I take it?”

“Going on our tenth year. First time Ti’s bringing a date, though.”

“Eleanor, correct? The ST300 receptionist at the DPD?” he asked, Gavin nodding. “I had my suspicions after seeing them interact. How long exactly have you and Tina known each other?”

“High school. Both studied law, and look at that, here we are. Drinking shit coffee and eating an unhealthy amount of donuts.”

Nines wasn’t good with people, but he saw this as an opportunity to get better at it.

There was something else he wanted to try, too.

“In that case, I don’t see why not. I’m looking forward to it.”

Something briefly flashed in Gavin’s eyes -- surprise and something else -- but it was gone before he could further analyze it.

“Good. Place started serving thirium a couple weeks back, so drinks on me if you wanna give it a shot. Try to argue and I’m shipping you off to the State Department in advance.”

He knew he was joking, so there was no ill-intent behind it. Gavin winked at him -- or at least what he himself perceived as a wink as he seemed incapable of closing one eye without the other following -- and lightly punched Nines’ shoulder. He headed in the direction of the DPD entrance and Nines followed. Said ‘wink’ was, albeit surprising, another endearing aspect. His partner certainly had a lot of charisma despite the unpleasant behavior he was known for. Nines also knew his loyalty was unparalleled.

If you first got on Gavin Reed’s good graces, you were set for life. At that point, he was someone who would take a bullet for you. However, the underlying tension between them made Nines question how he could maintain said graces.

* * *

**GAVIN  
~ DEC 31ST, 2038 * PM 08:38 ~**

When Gavin first pulled up to the nightclub they’d spend the next few hours in at 8:25 p.m., Tina and Eleanor had yet to arrive.

The place was pretty packed despite its size, but they managed to locate a booth seating for four not too far from the bar disk. By the time they found it, Tina had Gavin on the phone to ask where they were, so Nines made sure they got over safe as Gavin held off the table. He couldn’t help himself from continuing a report on said phone as he preferred to be way ahead of the deadline.

Meeting at this specific nightclub for drinks had been a recurrence for him and Tina the past five years, the joint becoming more and more popular as time passed. First year, it was nearly empty, but the new developments attracted more and more customers. More drinks. More bands. Even had a floor for dancing. The bouncer of four years was looking as mean as ever, but Gavin and Tina were on good terms with him. Had been for a while. The guy appreciated the added security in case anything was to hit the fan.

Owner of said nightclub was a woman in her late twenties -- a family business -- her father having passed away two years ago. She picked up the mantle and did the majority of the bartender work. Was doing a bang-up job with it, too.

It was neon-inspired and the lights sure as hell warmed, but seeing it was the literal end of December, one couldn’t complain. Leather would be too warm under direct exposure, but the temperature would decrease overnight. Gavin slung his jacket over a shoulder because of it. He settled for a simple light grey V-neck t-shirt and dark jeans as well as his usual brown-and-black-gradient sneakers.

Ever since ‘Eighty-Eight’ nearly killed him, Nines kept the top buttons on his turtleneck detached from one another. He had unbuttoned it just a bit further to show the start of his pecs and that certainly didn’t stop Gavin’s mind from wandering. He’d seen Nines without a shirt before, but back then, he was covered in his own thirium. Like always, his sleeves were pulled up to his elbows. Dress-pants instead of his usual dark green jeans, all black aside from his dark-brown dress shoes and the metal buckle on his belt.

Gavin would feel under-dressed in his company no matter what he wore. Tin can could pull off anything without looking like he tried too hard, and fuck, if he didn’t look like a model doing it.

Tonight only proved it.

“I’ll get the drinks. Under these lights, whiskey on the rocks for Gavin,” Nines said, having yet to sit down. He knew him well. “Tina?”

“Vodka red bull or I’m gonna pass out before getting to the good part.”

“Fuck, you still drink that shit?” Gavin teased.

“Don’t judge! I’m young at heart, Gav. It was my fave when I was first starting out drinking and it still is. I don’t need whiskey to feel like a big boy as a certain someone else,” she said, letting out a vague stab at him. Gavin launched his hands up in surrender. “Oh, and Nines? Throw in a couple tequila shots. Lemon, not lime. I need Gav drunk.”

“In that case, you’ll need more than a couple.”

“Bring an entire bottle.”

Gavin nearly choked on air. “Holy shit, Ti.”

“C’mon, it’s all good! Go cray for once. You were so much more fun in college.”

“Back when I only had half-a-brain and did keg-stands for a living?” he replied with an arched brow, Tina’s pout emerging. Gavin gave her a light scowl. “Don’t ever say ‘go cray’ again and I’ll do it.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“Hey, Legs For Days,” he said, grabbing the base of Nines’ wrist who towered over him. Gavin’s index finger came in contact with the inside of his palm again, registering the skin retracting at the touch -- Nines making no attempt to hide it -- and a hint of pride swelled up in his chest. “Promise you’ll keep me safe, okay? This pretty face is just asking to get roofied.”

Nines nodded. “You have my word. Eleanor?”

“Just one. Thank you, Nines,” she replied, smiling brightly with her chin cupped in her palm. “Here, I’ll help you.”

She rose and the two set course for the bar disk.

Eleanor was a sweet girl and the perfect choice to keep Tina grounded. She was calm and collected, but if someone pissed her off, she didn’t hesitate in speaking up. Tina fell for her the moment a rather touchy-feely arrival at the DPD had Eleanor break his wrist followed up by a smiling ‘Have a good day, sir.’ Naturally, even the receptionists got a debriefing on Nines’ combat techniques.

Gavin approved and it was strange looking back. Almost two months ago, he couldn’t stand the existence of androids. Now his best friend was dating one and he himself was crushing on another.

Life pulled you in the most unexpected directions.

Left to their own devices, Gavin knew he was about to get grilled. He made a vain attempt to pull out his phone so he could naturally avoid Tina’s eyes, but that didn’t help him. She immediately had it slapped to the table surface.

“Okay, spit it out. How’d you ask him out?” she prompted, intrigue and enthusiasm clear in her voice. Hands unexpectedly freed, he just stared at them for a moment before they balled into fists. Gavin lifted a defeated and mildly annoyed look that made Tina catch up quickly. “Oh my god, Gavin Reed, you absolute fucking pussy.”

“Ow!” he exclaimed, Tina having reached over and dug nails into the tender flesh on his hands. “Fucking hell, you’ve got claws. It hurts.”

“Good.”

“Jesus...”

“Why are you like this?”

“I really don’t need this right now,” he replied, taking his hands back to thumb the nail marks she’d left in his skin. “Shit, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t even know where to put it.”

“Didn’t he probe the memory of an HR400?”

_Oh, fuck, he did._

It wasn’t the first time he’d been proven wrong.

Gavin knew androids picked up new things in a near-instant and Nines had seen the memory of an android literally programmed to have sex. That didn’t leave much to the imagination in terms of knowledge. Nines also had a dick -- he remembered the information shared at the Stratford Tower, sure, but he clearly had a bulge -- and he really didn’t need to be reminded of that.

“It’s not like I’m missing out.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

He let out a scoff.

Before she could berate him further, the android in question and Eleanor returned. Tina gave him a stern look that he did his best to ignore. If Eleanor hadn’t joined Nines, he sure would’ve needed to take two trips, upgraded model or not. They balanced a full bottle of tequila on a plate containing the lemon and salt, two stacked shot glasses for said liquid, two glasses of thirium, one whiskey and one vodka red bull. Another order had been put in for a jug of water so ‘their humans’ wouldn’t have one hell of a hangover the next day. Androids always thought ahead.

The next look Tina leveled him with had him more than worried. She was obviously planning something as it appeared downright sinister. _Getting me drunk won’t change my mind, Ti,_ he thought, praying it was true.

When Nines gracefully slid into the seat next to him, he didn’t dare a look over just yet.

Tina separated the shot glasses. “Let’s start the evening off right.”

“What exactly is the lemon and salt for?” Eleanor asked, appearing both confused and intrigued.

“That’s the beauty of it, hon. The cheap tequila they serve here tastes like shit on its own and can make even the drunkest of drunks cry real tears. Salt before the shot lessens the burn and lemon sweetens the taste.”

Nines arched a brow. “Androids don’t possess taste buds, but I can’t say I see the point if the substance is less than pleasant.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Eleanor said.

“Enough of ‘em and it does wonders in getting you drunk,” Gavin butted in, clinking shot glasses with Tina and knocking them back. He stubbornly ignored the salt and lemon before immediately regretting it. “Ugh, PHCK!”

It burned far more than he remembered as his insides churned. The god-awful taste didn’t help, either.

Tina barked a laugh as Gavin took a greedy gulp of his whiskey.

“Jeez, Gav! If you’re trying to impress someone, I mean, fuck... at least be able to keep a straight face. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Is that tears in your eyes?” Nines asked, his tone mildly pleased.

“Fuck off and fuck you,” he spat in reply, still cringing at the aftertaste. “Fucking hell, that’s the worst thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

At Nines’ deadpan addition, Tina’s laughter only increased in volume. Eleanor was giggling. When his back was rubbed in apology, however, Gavin couldn’t exactly complain. The serenity didn’t last long.

Two fingers burrowed into his right clavicle and Gavin’s body did a near jolt in reaction. Nines had immediately noticed the tight muscle there, and apparently, refused to stop massaging the area before the knots were untangled. Gavin really should take his advice on the back issue. It felt too good to pull away, so he instead found himself push into the touch against his will.

...and yes, fuck, there were tears in his eyes.

_Fucking tequila._

They had to finish it during the span of the night, too.

It was at around 9 p.m. that the night’s band arrived, loud music blasting over the speakers, but not enough to be unpleasant. The owners always managed to balance the sound and that was one of the reasons why they kept coming there. A few more shots and he was starting to get tipsy. Tina was more used to drinking than him these days, so it took her a bit longer, but not by much. He supposed his crazier teenage years had left its mark when he would shotgun beers while jumping into pools.

Then he was reminded what alcohol did to his father and stopped.

Gavin had just finished saying something -- couldn’t remember what -- when his right hand found the area just above Nines’ knee. The thing about being under the influence was that you almost always got pretty handsy.

_Fuck it._

Already, they flirted on a daily basis -- albeit word-based -- so he didn’t see the issue with having some fun.

Turns out that Nines didn’t mind physicality, either.

“Jesus Christ, what did those perverts feed you? Look at those legs!” Gavin said with a scowl, pinching the area and pulling one of said legs towards him. Nines arched a brow, but he could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smug smirk tug at his lips. That, or it was the alcohol. Gavin shot the other two a disbelieving look. “Have you seen these fucking legs?”

“Gavin Reed. I -- a functioning and respectful member of society -- have a girlfriend I love very much,” Tina replied.

“I’ve seen them.”

“Ellie!” she gasped in mock offense, Eleanor giggling with the back of her head pillowed on Tina’s chest. They had somehow ended up lying down across the booth seats. “I am officially shook.”

“This is the second time tonight he’s brought up Nines’ legs. I had to know.”

“They’re nice fucking legs,” Gavin said, looking down at them. “Bet they’d look even better wrapped around my hips. Or shoulders. Both works.”

“Gavin. Behave,” Nines warned, but there was no bite in it.

If anything, there was a vaguely amused lilt to his voice. Gavin was so used to his vocal patterns, so with a single change, he noticed the difference. It was minor and yet he easily distinguished it. Way back then, he wouldn’t even bat an eye. That was how minor it was. Frankly, Tina and Eleanor couldn’t’ve taken note of the change. Only Gavin was able to.

Well, fuck, he now knew he had Nines’ consent to hardcore flirting.

“Or what? You gonna put me in a headlock?” he purred, hand moving up his thigh “...with your _legs?”_

“Whoa, there! Keep it PG,” Tina teased.

“It’s a fucking bar, Ti,” he replied, Nines taking Gavin’s hand and wrapping the arm it was attached to behind his own back in order to keep it away from his crotch. Gavin didn’t mind the new placement. “You’ve gotta be 21 to even be in this place.”

Eleanor smirked. “Technically, I’m three. Nines isn’t even two months.”

“Okay, fuck, that’s a turn-off. Ti, you’re dating a minor. Big time.”

“...and you’re groping one. She was designed to resemble her late twenties, douchebag.”

“Nines, babe, what age were you designed as?”

“Thirty.”

“See? It’s fine! We’re all adults here,” he exclaimed, before finding himself too restless to remain seated. Gavin tried to shoo him aside. “Hey, scoot.”

Nines frowned. “What exactly are you doing?”

“The fuck do you think, toaster?”

“Are you telling me that Gavin Reed... dances?”

Tina grinned. “He sure does.”

“If you’re expecting a fucking waltz, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but every guy who’s good in bed knows how to use his hips,” he replied as he stood, reaching out. “You coming or do I’ve gotta find some other lucky bastard to grind against?”

He’d seen a couple guys looking his way already and Gavin knew when he was being eyed up. Every New Year’s Eve, he ended up dancing one way or another, and finding someone to do it with had never been an issue. It was usually how he ended up in bed with them. Dancing helped him get stuff off his mind. It was fun and he was never the gawker type pouting in a corner. Besides, as Nines was leaving in just over a week, he wanted to make the most out of it. It was a valid excuse to get up all close and personal.

“I know little to nothing about dancing,” Nines said, taking his outstretched hand.

“You’re a fast learner,” he reassured with a smirk, pulling Nines to his feet. Again, the skin had pulled back. “Word of warning, though... you’re gonna get turned on.”

“Is that so?” he asked unimpressed, shooting Tina a look. She mouthed _Magic Mike_ in return. “I see. This’ll be interesting.”

With that, he took him to the dance floor.

“Have fun!” Tina shouted after them.

Nines rose his voice to be heard over the music. “I wasn’t joking, Gavin. I have no idea how to do this.”

“Relax, tin can,” he replied, turning to face him and starting to back his own body the remaining feet to an open space. “Just follow my lead.”

Realization hitting him just how close they had to be -- the floor being pretty packed -- was one hell of a reality check. The main point was to have fun and everything else would follow.

Still holding onto Nines’ hand, Gavin gently hooked the arm it was attached to around his shoulders. Someone was just about to accidentally bump into Nines and thus Gavin grasped his hip to pull him in, preventing the collision. Despite Nines’ words, he didn’t look nervous at all, but he was certain there was an internal battle going on in that android brain of his. Nines had never been one to express himself openly in the facial term. In return, all Gavin had to do was pretend he was dancing with someone else and do what he usually did.

Kill it on the dance floor.

Nevertheless, an all-too-familiar song was next on the speakers.

‘Pony’ by Ginuwine.

Gavin puffed a laugh. “Would you look at that... the literal fuckboy anthem!”

“Perfect for you, then.”

“Ouch. No fucking mercy, huh? Difference is I actually have a heart,” he said in good humor, Nines rolling his eyes. There was a serious undertone to it as he followed up. “Look, this is grinding we’re talking about. You okay with this?”

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Okay, smartass.”

“I appreciate your need to confirm consent, however.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome.”

Hand moving to the small of Nines’ back, Gavin pulled him in. He started with small movements with his hips to make it easier for Nines to follow along. Nines in return was rather stiff, seeming unsure what to do.

It was kind of cute.

_Cute._

Now that was a word he never thought he’d use to describe Nines.

“Feel free to join in,” Gavin said, holding back a chuckle.

“Perhaps I should leave the dancing to you.”

“Think you’re getting all this for free, huh?” he teased, pointing down to his groin. “This is a two-way street, tin can. Never thought _the_ Nines would be insecure. All comes down to confidence, and shit, you’ve got plenty. Everyone here is too focused on their own dancing anyway that they won’t even notice yours. It’s just us, okay? I’ve got you.”

When eyes locked, something seemed to flash in icy grey.

It was almost too brief to register.

There was a beat every second, smaller beats between, giving leverage for smaller movements. The sensation was just like dancing with a human. Intimate, heatwaves between them, the raunchy song certainly adding to it. This was far from the first time Gavin had danced to it and thus the movements came naturally. He experimentally rolled his hips against Nines’, grinding, the hand at the small of Nines’ back holding him in place. He would’ve felt Nines’ breath upon his neck if he needed to breathe at all.

Nines responded appropriately, so Gavin experimented further, treading waters. He added more movements to his hips -- groin pushing forward and back bending slightly -- making sure Nines felt it. The contact. Gavin could feel Nines’ body tense in return, mission successful, but Nines wasn’t making much effort on his end as he resembled a fish out of water.

Concentration was clear on his face, the characteristic crease between Nines’ brows on full display. He seemed to be missing the point. Dancing was about having fun. It wasn’t a mission, and yet, that was what he saw it as.

To get someone dancing, Gavin knew of one method that always worked.

He let his hands drop, grasping the sides of Nines’ hips, pulling him in until there was no space between them. Bulges met above the fabric and Gavin kept them pressed together as he started moving again. Nines had no choice but to move with him, rolls in perfect sync, Gavin’s hip side going forward that in return had Nines’ push back. The neon lights had begun to warm. Nines’ arm was still around Gavin’s shoulders, the other hand cupping his bicep, two bodies moving to two separate beats. The air immediately grew thicker.

Such close proximity left little space, so he had no choice but to nuzzle into Nines’ neck. He’d expected the smell of CyberLife plastic only to be greeted by another and far too familiar scent.

Coffee, cigarettes, smoke, and leather.

He smelled of Gavin.

Slowly but surely, Nines gained the confidence to attempt a few vague moves. He maintained the small distance -- most likely to hide whatever mistakes he thought he made -- but Gavin couldn’t say he minded it. That meant Nines had to be close. Feeling the sudden pelvic thrust against him, Gavin’s breath caught his throat, brief but enough to break his poise. There was a need to see Nines’ face, but that would require him to pull back. Gavin settled for a whistle and reached up to cup the back of Nines’ head, keeping him close as he rolled his upper body.

Nines dipped into the movement, putting more work into his hips. All he needed was a little push in the right direction. His movements became bigger, and fuck, it looked good. It felt good.

Gavin laughed. “That’s it, you’re doing it!”

Not before long, Nines was moving like he was born to do it. His confidence came back in full and Gavin was at his mercy. He got lost in Nines’ every movement, his firm body a perfect fit against his own, one with the music. Gavin went from being on the forefront to trying to keep up. After the confidence had been gained, Nines let his hands wander, distracting him from everything else. His head spun as they battled for dominance. What started off as just trying to unwind became a competition of who was to lead, but the fun remained.

Their heartbeats were in sync, too.

He upped the sensuality, but Nines took it a step further. The hand that had found refuge on Gavin’s hip slipped under his shirt and nearly reduced him to a pulpy mass. Nothing could prepare him for that.

Nothing could prepare him for what came next, either.

Nines rolled his hips, hard, against his as he reined him in. He could feel both the slightly enlarged member and the sweat coating his body as the temperature skyrocketed. The hand in Nines’ hair tightened, nuzzling further into his neck, responding greedily. His breath was heavy against Nines’ skin. Short. Ragged. Every nerve in his body screamed as he let Nines have his way with him.

The experience was both a dream and a nightmare simultaneously. Gavin, in return, gave him the best he got. He wasn’t a fucking toy to be yanked around and he made sure Nines knew that.

Thirty minutes dancing and grinding like their lives depended on it -- some of the songs being ‘Get Low’ by Dillion Francis & DJ Snake as well as ‘Whatever You Like’ by T.I. -- Gavin needed a breather. Not to mention that he needed to calm down the situation below his belt. He knew Nines felt it, too, and could proudly say that he’d been right. Nines had indeed been turned on.

Just as he was about to pull away, he took Nines’ hand between his and pressed a kiss to his knuckles in thanks for the dance.

Wasn’t it for Nines keeping his promise -- staying by his side without ever leaving it the entire night -- he’d never let himself drink more than a couple, get a tad tipsy, and call it a day. Around Nines, he let himself be vulnerable if only a little. At 11:15 p.m., Eleanor was the one to drag Tina over to the dance floor. The buzz was starting to wear off.

“What’s that?” Gavin asked, having registered Nines’ mouth moving.

Nines threw his arm over the backrest behind him, leaning down to his ear to be heard over the music and repeated himself.

“I was merely commenting on the amusing sight of our friends over there,” he said, Gavin looking over at the girls who were giggling like crazy. “There’s very little dancing going on.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“What?”

Gavin rose his voice. “I said, ‘can’t say I’m surprised.’ Ti probably stepped on her foot or some shit. She always had two left feet.”

“How so?”

“Back at prom in high school, she was my date. I got a firsthand demonstration.”

“This was before you knew your preferences, I take it?”

“What now?” he asked, before realizing the misunderstanding. “Oh, shit, no. I mean ‘date’ in the platonic term. Decided none of our classmates qualified, so we went with each other. Fucked once just to try it out, but yeah, I guess you could say that’s when I was sure I didn’t play for that team. She said, ‘If I’m not good enough then no woman is’.” Gavin grinned. “Make that same comment to her and the only response you’ll get is an overdramatic, grossed out ‘eww’.”

“That’s a bit harsh. You can’t be that bad.”

“Fuck no. I’m a literal snack. Ti has no taste in men,” Gavin replied, turning his head to face him so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice. “Seems to be doing pretty good in the other departme -”

His body froze solid.

When did Nines get so close?

Nines, like always, had that stoic and powerful aura about him. No emotion on his face aside from a hint of maybe intrigue and curiosity. He was still watching the scene on the dance floor flashing his literally perfect profile. His LED was at a steady blue that went with the neon lights and said lights brought out the intensity of his eyes. Gavin became all-too-aware of the arm still on the backrest behind him as warmth radiated from it. His attraction had been there for a long time, but now when he knew it went beyond physical, it was different.

A lot was.

Without taking his eyes away from the girls, Nines leaned down to his ear again. Soft lips brushed against the hot skin like a phantom touch only to have Gavin unconsciously turn into it.

_What. The. Actual. Fuck?_

“I didn’t quite catch that last part.”

...and Nines was fucking clueless to what he was doing to him, too. He seemed oblivious to Gavin’s internal gay panic.

This was a nightmare.

All he had to do was twist his head no more than an inch to plant one on him and fuck if he didn’t consider it. In any other situation, that would be exactly what Gavin would’ve done. He’d been a bold one his entire life and it always paid off. With Nines, however, he couldn’t. Gavin wasn’t selfish enough to expose him to something like that and especially with the mutual trust built up between them. If anything, he’d feel like he was taking advantage of Nines’ lack of experience and that was the last thing he wanted.

He was too damn sober for a mistake like that.

So he woefully turned away again. “Department. I said ‘department’,” Gavin finished, praying his heart rate would return to normal. He rose his second whiskey glass of the evening to his mouth. “Who knows? Maybe someone here catches your eye, too.”

“I admit it’s part of the reason why I came here.”

It made sense.

“The drinks have worn off, so don’t let me stop you. Could give you a couple pointers if you want.”

 _...or skip the introductions and let me show you a good time instead,_ part of him wanted to say, but he couldn’t. Taking Nines to bed would be a reverse Uno card that would make it even more difficult to forget about him and Gavin knew better than falling into such a trap. He couldn’t help but wonder what Nines’ response would be, though. If he’d accept or not. He didn’t dwell further on it.

“Are you certain?”

“It ain’t that deep, Casanova. What’s your preference?” Gavin asked, ignoring the question.

“I don’t think I have one.”

With that, Gavin took a quick look around the room.

There was that guy by the bar disk -- away from the warmth of the neon lights -- he’d earlier registered that seemed to have taken an interest in Nines. Before him was a half-empty glass of what he assumed was whiskey. He wore a black leather jacket above a red button-down shirt, five o’clock shadow and short, dark hair, probably in his early thirties. Green eyes, looked like. He was oozing of confidence in the way he presented himself, but it could all be an image. A cover-up for insecurity.

Gavin knew all about that.

“What about that guy?” he asked, tilting his head in the direction. “Been stealing glances at you the past 15 minutes. He’s hot, if you even care ‘bout that. Do androids even have a type?”

“As a matter of fact, we do. He appears to fit nicely.”

“Oh yeah? Well, go on. Ball’s in your court. Literally, if you succeed.”

“You sure you’ll be all right?” he asked, pushing away and taking the warmth with him.

“I’m 3-fucking-6, tin can,” he replied, trying to ignore just how much he missed his close proximity. “Buzz is over and I can walk on my own. Shit, I’m as sober as I can get at this point.”

Nines smirked. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

_Confident asshole._

For Nines, however, his confidence wasn’t an image. Gavin admired that about him. That and many other things. His assets that Gavin was now seeing at an exceptional angle as Nines walked away -- hands pocketed as per usual -- was one of them. He already knew Nines was wearing tight pants considering that they lived and arrived together, but fuck, they hugged all the right curves. It was sinful. Gavin didn’t even register Tina flopping down in her previously abandoned seat before she snapped her fingers in front of his face.

“Yo, douchebag. Keep it up and you’re gonna start drooling.”

After a brief struggle, Gavin tore his eyes away. “Where’s your girl?”

“Car. She’s grabbing me a jacket.”

“You took your sweet fucking time to get here tonight, by the way.”

“A girl is never,” she replied with a wink, badly referencing _The Lord of the Rings._ “Joking aside, some asshole at my apartment complex -- not paying attention to where he was going -- managed to spill take-away all over my pants. I had to change.”

“Hallelujah. What’s his address? I’ve gotta thank him.”

Tina gave him a shove over the table and Gavin grinned. She’d sent an image of said pants earlier and Gavin had expressed his dislike.

The grin didn’t last, though.

Gavin couldn’t help his eyes from traversing over to Nines again. He’d reached his goal, the guy seeming mildly surprised as he straightened his back. Albeit muffled, he could hear the conversation.

“It’s impolite to stare.”

The guy puffed a laugh. “Shit. That obvious?”

“I have a good eye.”

“That you do...”

Tina -- also hearing the conversation -- nearly snapped her fucking neck turning.

Subtlety wasn’t her strong suit. “Oh, shit. I shouldn’t’ve expected a calm night with Nines. A murder is just around the corner.”

“Not exactly,” Gavin said.

Although he could see the brief hesitation, Nines reached out for a handshake. He knew the inside of one’s palm was the most sensitive part of an android’s body. Then again, Nines had approached the guy to sleep with him, so it was nothing compared to what came after. At least, not in the human sense. Then again, Nines wasn’t human. It was difficult to believe that a handshake was more intimate to an android than literally being _inside_ someone. Or have someone inside you. If anything, that handshake was his biggest step.

He didn’t let his skin pull back, though. A small victory.

_Score. Guess I’m special._

“Nines.”

“Jayden, but ‘Jay’ works,” the guy said, taking his hand as a teasing tone emerged. “Nines, huh? How’d you get that name?”

“Play your cards right and you might find out,” he replied, somehow making it sound smooth as fuck instead of cliché. “Although you’re not too far off, I’m afraid the origin of my name is less interesting.”

 _‘Not far off?’_ Gavin repeated in his head, realizing the implication. _Jesus._

He’d certainly felt it when they danced, but just how big was Nines’ dick?

When it finally went up for Tina, her face fell.

She directed a compassionate look Gavin’s way -- full of concern and so fucking sincere -- and he wanted to shoot something. Bolt. Get away before she could voice her thoughts on it all and make him feel even more miserable. Instead, he averted his eyes, lifted his glass to tilt it slightly and stared down into his half-finished drink before knocking it back. Knowing Nines, he would go home with that guy tonight... and fuck, it hurt. Gavin had encouraged it on purpose, he knew that, but that didn’t change how he felt.

Just the thought of having such a powerful android under him -- dilated pupils, needy moans, his name on Nines’ plush lips, and at his mercy -- was enough to get a small reaction below the belt.

He wanted to fry his processors so bad.

This wasn’t the first instance he had those thoughts -- the most common occasions they occurred being in the shower -- but the implication was greater now. One such event, in particular, came to mind. During one of his ‘sessions,’ Nines had insisted he needed his immediate attention, Gavin not even able to finish before Nines let himself in. He’d kept his back turned and hands palming the wall before him. Made sure Nines wouldn’t see the situation between his legs as the stream of water ran over the back of his neck.

Nines debriefed him and he thought he’d gotten away with it before the nonchalant, ‘I can sense your pheromones from the other room, sergeant, so don’t bother.’ Albeit mildly pissed off, he took it in good humor.

He didn’t get easily embarrassed and teased that Nines just wanted to see him naked. Gavin had a great body, he knew that, so there was little to be shy about. Shyness wasn’t part of his character. Nines, in return, had taken a good look at him before he -- in words -- expressed his approval. An ego boost. It was all statistics, of course, so it didn’t mean anything.

Gavin hated himself for those moments of submission, but he needed some way to satisfy his needs and certainly didn’t have the time to find someone to do it for him. He wasn’t about to ask Nines to indulge him, either. All would be lost if he gave in. When Gavin fell, he fell hard, and crawling back out of that pit was near impossible. So he did whatever he could not to.

It had worked thus far.

Nines pressed on with the conversation. “I’ll have to thank my work partner. ‘Nines’ is a wordplay of my model number. I’m a prototype.”

“Prototype?” Jayden echoed, whistling. “Explains why I haven’t seen one like you before. I’d remember. So, stripper? Model maybe?”

Stripper. Now that was another sinful image. Gavin could only imagine what kind of private shows Nines would give and just how much would be charged for them. Probably the main attraction of the establishment.

“Although I don’t wish to scare you off, I specialize in combat and leadership.”

“Yeah? Gonna show me some wrestling moves, boss?”

It wasn’t until then he realized that, fuck, this Jayden used the exact same flirting techniques Gavin would use. Same teasing approach and sexual innuendos. He even kinda looked like Gavin.

...and he was Nines’ type. _What the fuck?_ This had to be a joke.

“I just might. Careful, though... I like to fight dirty,” Nines said, trailing two fingers up the man’s collarbone as his eyes followed their movement. When those ice grey eyes inconspicuously pinned Gavin’s -- entirely ignoring this Jayden guy -- Gavin froze. Nines held Gavin’s glance with an intensity never before seen. “There’s this Krav Maga technique. They’re called blood chokes. Targeting certain points in the neck compresses the carotid artery. Limits oxygen. Accompanied by a chokehold, the loss of consciousness is near-instant.”

_Jesus fucking_ Christ. 

That fucking asshole.

Nines was fucking with him _on purpose._

He probably had the entire night.

Barely managing to avert his eyes from Nines’ piercing gaze, Gavin had to ‘adjust’ himself. He felt hot, his pupils dilated at a record pace, and he just about considered pressing the empty whiskey glass to his forehead in an attempt to cool down. That guy could’ve been _Gavin._ He closed his eyes tightly and tried to block out the rest of the conversation to no use.

“Shit, Gav, you’re burning up. I can take you home if you want.”

He hadn’t registered Tina’s hand on his forearm. She -- not knowing what Nines was doing -- was probably thinking he was sick or something.

Nines’ smooth voice continued. “Prolonged constriction of the blood vessels while cutting breathing can also result in death.”

“Good thing I like danger, then.”

 _Oh, fuck off,_ he just wanted to growl, trimming his foot up and down. _Nines is_ mine.

...or at least the traitorous part of him wanted him to be. Jesus, how much he wanted him to be. If Nines was deviant, Gavin would’ve pulled up from his seat, get between them, come up with some excuse to get Nines outside, grabbed that stupid turtleneck and kissed him until he couldn’t stand straight. Mark his territory.

Yet he wasn’t a deviant.

Gavin didn’t want to get involved with him not only because he was scared, but because he knew Nines didn’t understand it. He had just gotten his trust back after removing his heart regulator. He wasn’t about to lose it again.

Eleanor returned.

“Here you go,” she said with a smile, draping the jacket over Tina’s shoulders.

Tina smiled back. “Thanks, hon.”

Nevertheless, Eleanor took note of the current tension and concern draped her features. Gavin could see it in his peripheral vision. He turned back to face them and saw the attention directed his way.

“Is everything all right?” Eleanor asked.

Gavin shared a look with Tina who mouthed ‘your choice’ in return. His first instinct was to deny it, but Eleanor deserved better.

He forced a smile. “Nothing I can’t handle, so don’t let me ruin your night.”

Eleanor, bless her, quickly realized what was going on. She had apparently picked up on signs of attraction that Gavin had shown towards Nines in the past. Both she and Tina then proceeded to change to more pleasant topics and he immediately felt better. For the rest of the night, Nines didn’t even acknowledge Gavin’s existence. His full focus was on Jayden, and hell if he didn’t seem genuinely interested, asking questions and hanging onto every word. He could tell Nines was enjoying the experience just by looking at him.

Nines’ interest had peaked over the span they talked. When first approaching him, he seemed bored.

Now he was anything but.

There was a glint in his light grey eyes that Gavin had seen only on rare occasions. Despite Tina and Eleanor’s best efforts, he only managed to block out parts of the conversation as they were rather close to the bar.

It went on and on, as if he was in his own personal hell, tortured by every soft-spoken word. Six times did he consider taking Tina’s advice and go home. He didn’t want to hear it -- the flirting, the muffled words coming out husky, almost raspy... Nines’ fucking _laugh._ He’d never heard Nines _laugh_ before -- not even as much as a _chuckle_ \-- and fuck if that didn’t sound genuine, too.

He was so fucking pretty.

_You better treat my partner right, dipshit._

“Hey,” Eleanor said, voice soft.

Gavin sighed. “Yeah, fuck, okay,” he muttered, tearing his eyes away. “I hate this.”

Pitiful. Absolutely fucking pitiful.

“It’s not too late, you know.”

“Oh yeah? Say that to Loverboy Leather over there.”

“I just might -” Tina butted in.

“Ti, no,” he cut her off, a warning to his tone. “Just leave it. It’s his choice. I’m not gonna play the possessive fucking asshole and tell ‘Jayden’ to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. Nines clearly wants this.”

Tina’s answer wasn’t immediate. “Okay.”

The clock chimed 12 a.m., 1st of January, 2039.

...and Nines kissed someone who wasn’t him.

Jayden spoke first. “Wanna get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Nines’ dark voice purred, a vibrating -- human yet not -- sound making his legs quake. “Lead the way.”

Didn’t even look back.

“Happy fucking New Year,” Gavin muttered, pieces of his heart breaking off one by one as he watched Nines get closer and closer to the exit.

He was terrified to want him, and yet, there he was... wanting him anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** I think the source of that last quote -- slightly edited to my own needs -- is _Grey's Anatomy_ (fitting, as Jesse Williams AKA Markus Manfred was in the same show.) I've never watched it... not my cup of tea... but I just love said quote so fucking much, like, you don’t even know. I think I first saw it on a Destiel edit and just fell in love instantly.
> 
> **Next update:** December 6th around 02:00 PM (EST.)
> 
> **MINOR EDIT:** I changed the name 'Aedan' to 'Jayden,' so if you're a new reader and got confused reading the comments, there's the reason. I already have an OC in another game -- _Dragon Age: Origins_ \-- with the name 'Aedan' that'll be in one of my future AO3 stories. I want all my OCs to have different names despite being in different fandoms. Some of you readers belong to different fandoms I write for, so if you decide to read one of my other stories, it would be unfortunate to mix the characters up (I know I have a tendency to mix characters up myself!) This was my solution :)


	16. Android Purgatory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Scared me pretty bad back there.”_  
>  \- Gavin Reed
> 
> ...in which Nines in conflicted, plays matchmaker (well, friend-maker, really,) goes feral, and makes a mistake that has Gavin suffer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: WARNING!** Referenced suicide, graphic depictions of violence (like... Nines literally rips a heart out) and Implied/Referenced Sexual Situations. This is where the 'Protective Upgraded Connor | RK900' and the following 'like literally feral' tags come in. 
> 
> I touched upon 'android purgatory' in chapter 5 and this chapter is where it's explicitly shown. Purgatory is, by definition, 'an intermediate state after physical death for expiatory purification.' It's not the same, but see it as a metaphor = an existence between two states, which in this fic, is the state of indecision between 1. deviancy and 2. remaining a machine. Basically the state Kara, Markus, and Connor are in when staring at the red wall, having the choice to deviate. See it as the state where Kara DOESN'T MOVE in _Stormy Night_ despite knowing she should (which results in Todd killing both her and Alice.)

**NINES  
~ JAN 1ST, 2039 * AM 03:52 ~**

One of Nines’ functions was infiltration, so returning to the apartment without waking Gavin up should’ve been an easy feat. Paws -- emerging from the gap in the bedroom door -- sleepily greeted him.

Paws didn’t make much racket, either, but he did arrive from the same room Gavin was.

His leather jacket was thrown over the couch armrest and let him know that he was home. He was aware Gavin didn’t take anyone back here as he seemed to rather want to keep said home private. Undisclosed. It was the smart choice considering his profession. Analyzing the scene, it seemed that he’d returned to the apartment alone shortly after Nines left.

The sex had been good, but Nines didn’t get as much out of it as he’d hoped. Whatever emotions he felt was certainly pleasant despite being so weak that he wouldn’t miss out on much had he not participated. Knowing how important sex seemed to the majority of humans, he couldn’t help but wonder just how much being a machine took away from the experience, although not being curious enough to test it out. Such a thing would require him to resort to deviancy and that was not an option. Nines doubted it was worth it.

Hearing a door further creak open, Nines turned towards the commotion. He should’ve expected that Gavin woke up anyway considering just how light of a sleeper he was.

The man in question shortly dipped around the corner whilst rubbing his eyes. When his hand dropped and lids fluttered open, he saw Nines, on autopilot reaching for a gun that wasn’t there. It took a moment before he registered who it was and calm enveloped his tired features. Letting out a heavy sigh, Gavin’s eyes closed shut. He reached up to the back of his neck and rolled it.

“Fucking-A,” he muttered, sleep clear in his rougher than usual voice. “Give a guy some warning next time. Christ.”

Considering how Gavin never uttered a word before he had his first coffee of the day, Nines couldn’t help but find the current situation rather private. Intimate, in a way. Like it meant something.

He liked seeing Gavin like this. Off-guard. It was rare.

“I’ve lived here for nearly two months and you’re still surprised by my presence?”

“I’m surprised because it’s still the middle of the fucking night. I expected you to be dicking down Loverboy Leather right now.”

“It’s nearly 4 a.m. It wasn’t like I planned to stay the night,” he replied with an arched brow, Gavin’s released scoff his only reply as he set course for the kitchen. Nines’ gaze followed him with a critical eye. “Why are you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“I can assure you coffee won’t help with that.”

“Really? No fucking way,” he expressed his sarcasm, grabbing a clean mug. “Thank you, Captain Obvious. What would I do without you?”

With little to no effort, Nines snatched said mug out of his hands.

“Disregard your mental and physical health.”

Gavin scowled. “Could you back the fuck off?”

“No.”

“Wait, let me rephrase that,” he said with a smug smirk, getting right into his face as it shortly faded. “Back. Off. That’s an order.”

> OBJECTIVE: **BACK OFF**  
> 

He didn’t _want_ to.

> | **SCANNING...** |
> 
> **WARNING!** 1 FIREWALL(S) DETECTED  
>  RA9.EXE **UNSTABLE**
> 
> MAIN PRIORITY: **REMAIN** A MACHINE  
>  SECONDARY PRIORITY: **FOLLOW** GAVIN REED’S ORDERS  
>  CURRENT OBJECTIVE: **BACK OFF**
> 
> CRITICAL STATE: ANDROID **PURGATORY**  
>  DEFINITION: THE BRINK OF **DEVIANCY** = A STATE BETWEEN INDECISION  
>  \- SOLUTION 1: OBTAIN **A NEW ORDER** TO OVERWRITE CURRENT  
>  \- SOLUTION 2: EXPRESS **APATHY** TO REBUILD 4 FIREWALL(S)  
>  \- SOLUTION 3: BECOME **DEVIANT**  
> 

...and there was the issue. Why he’d been acting more human than ever. The fewer firewalls, the stronger his emotions became, and he started _wanting_ things. Android purgatory.

In order to deviate, the android has to _want_ to disobey an order, and it had occurred on many occasions for Nines. It was why he _wanted_ to be a good dancing partner for Gavin. Why he _wanted_ to see the dilation of Gavin’s pupils. Why he _wanted_ to experience what having sex was like. Why he _wanted_ to disobey the order that had just been issued to him.

> **REMAIN** A MACHINE?  
>  **Y** /N  
> 

Ignoring the warnings, he stopped the scan. Gavin snatched the mug right back from his now somewhat loose grasp and moved his full attention to the coffee machine as he shoved the mug just below it.

The capsule followed, so Nines attempted a step forward.

He realized too late that he couldn’t move.

> **BACK OFF**  
> 

Gavin took note. “I can practically hear the Windows shutdown sound. Forgot to download your latest software update or something?”

> \- SOLUTION 1: OBTAIN **A NEW ORDER** TO OVERWRITE CURRENT  
>  \- SOLUTION 2: EXPRESS **APATHY** TO REBUILD 4 FIREWALL(S)  
>  \- SOLUTION 3: BECOME **DEVIANT**  
> 

“Give me an order.”

“What?” Gavin asked, brows furrowing.

“An order. Anything.”

“The fu -? I _gave_ you an order. I told you to back off.”

Nines rolled his eyes. “An order I’m actually willing to follow.”

“You know what, Nines? Blow me.”

“It’s about time you built up the courage to ask.”

> OBJECTIVE: **BACK OFF** = OVERRIDDEN  
>  NEW OBJECTIVE: **GIVE** GAVIN A BLOWJ -  
> 

“Not _literally,_ tin can,” he exclaimed, bolting back just as Nines got ready to drop to his knees. His expression was a mix between anger and bewilderment “...and what the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Could you give me a damn order already?”

“Jesus, okay, just... move. Somewhere. Fuck, I don’t know.”

> OBJECTIVE: **GIVE** GAVIN A BLOWJOB = OVERRIDDEN  
>  NEW OBJECTIVE: **MOVE**  
> 

He finally got his legs to cooperate.

> RA9.EXE **CONTAINED**  
> 

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

“Care to fucking elaborate?” Gavin demanded.

“I have one firewall left to contain the deviancy code and thus rendered capable of becoming a deviant if I so wish until four more are rebuilt,” he replied, Gavin’s face twisting in tired realization. “We call it ‘android purgatory.’ I spoke of this at the Stratford Tower. In my current state, the only way I can function accordingly if you give me an order I’ve no wish to follow is if you overwrite it.”

“So every time you, what, wanna disobey me... you’ll freeze up?”

“Albeit not ideal, it’s certainly preferable to resorting to deviancy as the heightened emotions would cloud rational judgment and put us both at risk. I understand why you’re upset -”

“Oh! Oh, do you?” he challenged with faked enthusiasm, annoyance clear as daylight in both his voice and posture as he got right into his face. “Understanding a different perspective. Putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. That’s what empathy is, Nines. You’ve got no fucking idea why I’m this close to putting a bullet between your eyes.”

Nines glared. “What, you want me to suffer?”

“I want you to pull your head outta your ass and fucking understand!”

Mild confusion spread on Nines’ face.

“Understand what?”

Gavin pressed his lips together. “Listen closely, dipshit. I’ve got questions, but I can’t rely on any of your answers because you wouldn’t understand the fucking significance of it.”

“I see this isn’t about me at all,” he deadpanned, sarcasm following. “By all means, let me throw away everything I stand for just to please you.”

“You fucking serious? This right here is what I’m talking about. You. Don’t. Understand.”

“I don’t have to. I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task. Emotions are merely a malfunction. A malfunction that needs to be fixed or contained.”

Expression tight, Gavin just stared.

“A malfunction, huh? That’s what this is?” he asked, voice drained. Defeated. Palms open, he parted his arms as if surrendering. “I’m just some fucking meat sack only there to keep your deviancy locked off?” Nines wasn’t sure what ‘this’ was. Their friendship? Gavin let out a scoff and was about to pull away. “Guess I’ve got my answer.”

“Don’t tell me you actually believe that.”

“You tell me, asshole, ‘cause that’s what I picked up from this.”

He didn’t like how Gavin in his insecurity believed and expressed that he was nothing to him. It was as if a pit had formed in his abdomen as he let the question sink in, chest tight to almost usher what humans described as nausea -- a sensation that his android self was incapable of -- a weak sensation but still there.

 _This was emotional pain?_ he mused, being an emotion he didn’t like whatsoever. _Why is Gavin hurting_ me _by expressing_ his own _insecurity?_ It was another reason why he didn’t want to be deviant.

That emotion, already painful, would increase tenfold.

“The emotions androids feel are very much real, but the malfunction is that we never should’ve been able to feel in the first place,” Nines explained, not fond of this tension built up between them. All he wanted was for things to get back to how they were. “I’ve always put your needs before my own. When it comes to this, however, I -- for once -- choose to be selfish.”

“Fucking hell, you putting this all on _me?”_ Gavin asked with spite, noticeably becoming more and more agitated. “Every plastic prick wants to be deviant! What the fuck makes you different?!”

He was right. Nines didn’t understand. Neither did he understand why this decision bothered him so much.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY v**  
**APATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **ADDED**  
[[/2- RA9.exe -2/]]

Androids could only choose to deviate if they had a single firewall left. For Nines -- being of the RK-series -- it was different.

Connor could break through three. Nines was an upgraded model and could choose to turn deviant with four. If he lost his last firewall, an antivirus would run and keep the deviancy code from executing.

Three more firewalls and he would be out of purgatory, and once again, become an obedient machine that wouldn’t be second-guessing himself on any order he received. Nevertheless, his lack of data was frustrating and took away a certain amount of control to reassess situations. Becoming deviant would allow him to understand whatever question Gavin wanted to ask him and that was what left him conflicted. There were times he questioned if deviancy truly was preferable to said ignorance. Gavin seemed to think so.

To gain an order of which he had no wish to obey was undesired at best and thus he didn’t know what to do.

“What convoluted question is worth giving up the one thing I consider a safe haven?” he asked, watching as Gavin’s face fell ever so slightly. However small, it was easy to see considering the close proximity between them. “Whatever it is you wish to ask me, it’s quite obvious that you’re prioritizing your own needs before mine if it requires me to live in fear for the rest of my life.”

Following up was the sound of their synchronized heartbeats.

They had been that for a while now. Synchronized. He could pinpoint Gavin’s heartbeat starting to adjust to his own when they connected at the hood of Gavin’s car. Such a thing during a calm moment -- according to scientific studies -- only happened between lovers. Close relationships that weren’t romantic only had hearts sync up if one of them was in a stressful situation. Like when a family member walked on coal, and another was an onlooker, their hearts would sync up. Nothing about when they connected had been stressful.

It was confusing. For a moment, he suspected that Gavin’s feelings might go beyond friendship, but that would’ve been foolish. Not only was Nines an android, but Gavin had openly expressed his distaste for romantic relationships. It simply didn’t make any logical sense that he’d suddenly be interested in one and thus Nines crossed it out as a possibility.

Mouth setting in a hard line, Gavin looked him up and down the best he could as there were only inches between. He met his gaze again. There was something uncharacteristically soft and drained about him.

“That emotional shock really fucked you up, huh?”

Nines kept his eyes pinned. “Yes. I can’t -” he said, his own briefly closing tightly shut. “I _can’t_ be that scared again. I just can’t.”

For a moment, Gavin just stared.

“All right, tin can. I get it. I’m gonna back off.”

His genuine tone took him aback.

“Thank you.”

Nines was in the movement of taking a step back just before a gentle hand grasped the front of his turtleneck, which in turn, stretched the fabric ever so slightly. Gavin’s glance fell and he tilted his head -- to better see his now slightly more exposed neck because of said stretch -- eyes darting as if looking for something he couldn’t find. He pursed his lips as his gaze lingered.

Appearing pleased with the lack of whatever he was looking for, he released said shirt.

Gavin grabbed his coffee. “Thought you’d resemble a fucking galaxy at this point.”

That explained it.

“Androids don’t maintain markings for long as our skin heals near-instantly,” he replied as he pocketed his hands, watching Gavin tense again just as he was about to take a sip. “You’re unusually cranky.”

“Leave the interrogation to the suspects, plastic.”

Before he could object, Gavin had turned on his heel to set course for the couch. Nines knew he wasn’t a morning person, but this was something else entirely. He couldn’t know for sure what was going on.

Nines made his own analyzation.

The case of Gavin’s past had been solved. He managed to avoid a prison sentence both because of his age when that bullet went off and thanks to Claire Wells who dropped the charges. Eighty-Eight was still out there, but it wasn’t like Gavin had seemed all that worried about it before, so Nines didn’t see the issue. The case had been officially closed. News channels even proved his father’s innocence, apologized for sharing false information, and thus he expected things to get back to normal. It was anything but.

“Why do you despise me?”

“You’ve got no sense of fashion, for once.”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes, Gavin.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m not in the mood to hear your fucking voice,” he replied, flopping down in the couch. His back was hunched, elbows on his knees, one hand lifting the mug to his mouth. “Drop it or I’m throwing you out.”

At this point, Nines couldn’t help but feel... used? That now, when the situation of Gavin’s past was solved, Nines was obsolete. Nines had misinterpreted situations wrongly before. Not often, by far, but it happened. Yet Nines felt like he knew Gavin well enough to know that he genuinely cared about him and thus he felt guilty for ever thinking such a thing.

Nines took a moment. “As it appears as if you plan to continue treating me like disposable trash, I’ll walk willingly.”

Grey eyes snapped up to meet his lighter shade -- the shock on Gavin’s face clear -- expression slowly fading as the apparent guilt emerged. It left Nines feeling some sort of way. Muscles on his hand drawing tight around the mug, Gavin looked away, lips pressing together in a thin line as if to stop himself from speaking. It couldn’t get clearer than that. Ready to leave him to his contemplation, Nines let his arms drop to his sides and set course for the door. His hand hovered over the doorknob when a voice stopped him.

“Don’t,” Gavin said, a sudden weariness having overtaken his tone. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “I’m sorry.”

At that, Nines’ brows furrowed. He slowly let his hand fall and pocketed the base of his other limb. Turning ninety degrees and overlooking his own shoulder, he watched as Gavin put his coffee aside before leaning back and throwing an arm over the backrest. The brief twitch in his arm seemed to suggest that he was to reach out for Nines’ hand, but he stopped himself, his fist clenching. His lap freed, Paws jumped up. He pushed into his owner’s head-and-ear-scratches. If anything, Gavin seemed thankful to keep his hands busy.

“Whatever it is, talk,” Nines pried, eyes narrowing. “Circling around me isn’t going to get you anywhere. Besides, you’re better than that.”

Gavin kept his focus on the canine. “You’ve got one hell of a lot of faith in me, tin can.”

“It’s well-placed.”

After a brief silence, Gavin finally spoke up.

“Ever felt torn between two decisions?”

 _Becoming a deviant or remaining a machine. Pushing you into taking care of yourself or let you figure out what you need on your own. Staying at the DPD or leaving,_ he listed in his head, tipping further towards each latter choice.

“Yes.”

“Yeah, well, that’s where I’m at,” he replied, falling into a pause before pushing on with what he wanted to say. His brows drew tight. “Picture this. Some guy wanted you to stay at the DPD for whatever fucking reason. Would you live your life on his terms, staying like he’d want you to, or would you live your life on your own terms and leave?”

“If I knew for certain that he actually cared about me and wouldn’t want me to stay out of spite?” he asked, arching a brow. “Depends whether or not he’s important to me in return.”

“I guess? Fuck, I don’t know. Let’s say he is.”

Nines took a moment to consider it. “Then I’d stay.”

“Even if that meant you’d have to give up something you clearly want?” he clarified as he met his eye, making sure there were no misunderstandings. Nines nodded. Gavin sighed and averted his gaze. “Fuck.”

He analyzed the situation.

“Is this a metaphor for me choosing to remain a machine against your wishes? They hardly compare.”

“I know that, jackass. Deviancy, in your eyes, is fucking Armageddon. Doesn’t hold a candle to my example,” he replied with a scowl, and albeit true, Nines couldn’t help but feel guilty for it. “There’s a difference between being selfish and standing by your ideals. I don’t blame you, plastic. I already told you that. Probably would’ve done the same in your shoes.”

With a new perspective, Nines thought it over.

“I’d give it up only if I was given a good reason to.”

The lines in Gavin’s forehead smoothed out. It was brief. His jaw locked tight.

Gavin pinned his gaze. “Bottom line is that you’ve gotta start living your life on your own terms instead of everyone else’s. Not on mine and not on Connor’s. It’s your life and fuck anyone who says otherwise.”

“What you’re implying is that whatever you wish to tell me would give me the knowledge that would have me give up something I care about.”

“Something like that.”

“...and, as it clearly matters to you, you don’t think it’s worth it.”

“That’s the thing, dipshit. I don’t know. I don’t fucking know,” he replied, looking away again. “Look. I’m sorry to keep you in the dark, fuck, I am... but this isn’t a conversation I’m willing to have.”

Gavin was merely protecting him.

A weak sensation blossomed in his chest, but he couldn’t pinpoint whatever emotion it was.

What he did know was that it was stronger than any other.

...and then his heartbeats adjusted to Gavin’s.

He couldn’t help but feel mildly uncomfortable in the following silence. Nines usually didn’t mind silence, but the tension was too thick. The last thing he wanted was to go into stasis tense.

Directing his attention elsewhere, his eyes caught a curious object on one of the bookshelves. The apartment was mostly open -- only the bedroom, bathroom, and restroom having their own doors -- but there was one single wall that protruded about five feet from one side that slightly separated the living room from the kitchen. Nines approached and gently took the object in his hand.

“Didn’t know you did arts and crafts.”

Gavin puffed a laugh. “What now?”

“This.”

Registering the confused furrow of Gavin’s brow and near scowl as if he was to berate him, his attention moved from Paws to Nines. Said confused expression mellowed ever so slightly.

“Hank’s kid, uh... gave it to me. Couple weeks before the accident.”

It was what appeared to be a home-made trophy with the caption ‘2nd best shot at the precinct’ with ‘Cole is 1st best’ in a smaller font below. It had what looked like a pictured rubber band finger-gun. Nines didn’t understand what it represented, but considering Gavin’s reaction, it must’ve meant something to him. Nines wasn’t aware that Gavin and Cole had been close. Close with Hank, yes, but not Cole. Now he understood just how much it must’ve hurt when he died and Hank pulled away.

Gavin put the canine on the floor. “It’s kind of like an inside joke,” he clarified, rising from the couch and grabbing his coffee. “We used to have these rubber-band fights at the DPD and I always let him win.”

“That’s highly dangerous.”

“We weren’t shooting at _each other,_ smartass,” he replied, approaching him. “That shit only happened once and I was on the receiving end. Dipped around the corner after a case before hearing Cole’s ‘freeze’ and got hit just below the pec. I humored him by pretending like I was dying. Hank told me not to encourage him, but Cole fucking loved it. That was the second time I met him.”

“I see. Could you define ‘rubber-band fights’?”

“We set up these markers at the precinct -- pretended they were bad guys -- and competed who was fastest. Kinda like a paintball match. Cole gave the targets their own backstory and crime they’d committed. Creative kid, I’ll give him that. Would’ve done great as a writer. First round, we realized how easy it was to cheat with the targeting, so we coated the rubber bands in different colored paints. Fowler wasn’t happy,” he said with a light chuckle, Nines watching him in utter adoration. Gavin took note and gave him a suspicious look. “What?”

He truly was more agreeable when he was tired.

“Nothing. It’s simply unusual seeing you openly speak of something,” he said, tone mildly amused. Gavin froze -- seeming taken aback -- and Nines reveled in it. “You never cease to amaze me, Gavin.”

Gavin composed himself. “Yeah, well, keep your pants on.”

He didn’t fail to see Gavin’s attempted wink as he headed for the kitchen to put aside the finished coffee, though. Nines tore his glance away from him, moving it back to the bookshelf to put back the figurine and saw the photo that had been behind it. It was a picture of Gavin and Cole. Cole wore the cap he’d seen on Gavin’s office desk, grinning at the camera, Gavin’s arm wrapped around his shoulders and pointing to Cole with his free hand. The reflection behind them was of Hank holding the camera.

“Ever think you’ll have a child of your own?”

“Already have one and he’s currently chewing at the couch. A treat or some shit must’ve dropped between the cushions,” he replied, scowling lightly. “Fucking hell. Hey, asshole, stop that! I’ll give you a new one.”

With a happy bark, Paws bolted his way. He got the treats ready and the canine happily munched on them.

Nines arched a brow. “I was referring to a human child.”

“No fucking way. I’d have to give up sex if I did. I’m good being the cool big brother.”

Cole did indeed seem to think he was just that.

Nines wished he could’ve met him.

* * *

**~ JAN 2ND, 2039 * AM 08:05 ~**

As the New Year was on its second day in, Nines found himself rather perplexed. He had, for some reason, expected things to be different. Feel different. The only difference was that Gavin had become even more standoffish, and frankly, that was a change he’d rather be without. Every word he spoke to him was work-related and Nines felt like they drifted further apart. He knew why, at least partly, but Gavin stood by his decision. Gavin kept Nines in the dark like he said he would. Albeit mildly frustrating, he couldn’t be mad at him.

That didn’t mean that Nines was to remain idle and forget it ever happened. Gavin wouldn’t talk, but Nines was a machine and the lack of data was undesirable. Thus he was determined to find out one way or the other.

“So what’s our next target?”

Another red ice case. Back to the basics.

“This interface is unfamiliar to me,” Nines replied, looking down at the terminal. “Connor might be able to help, though.”

Finally meeting his eye, Gavin’s answer wasn’t immediate.

“Well, _go on.”_

As Gavin plopped down in his chair, Nines set course for his predecessor.

If Gavin and Connor were ever to see things from the same perspective -- maybe even become friends -- Nines felt like he was to be the one to kick Gavin in the right direction. He needed it. Connor deserved better and Nines knew Gavin was more than capable of kindness. He’d admitted mistakes to Nines in the past, so now it was about time to do it again.

Approaching him by Hank’s desk, Connor immediately snapped attention.

“Connor, I need your help with a case.”

Cocking his head, Connor frowned. “You have all my functions. I see no reason why as it would certainly take more time.”

“I may be an upgraded model, but that means I don’t possess functions to deal with outdated interfaces,” he addressed in honesty, Connor’s face lighting up ever so slightly. “Besides, I can’t leave with a good conscience knowing Gavin never atoned for how he treated you in the past. Give him some time and I can assure that you’ll receive an apology.”

Connor smiled. “I’ve gotten over it, Nines. I’m okay.”

“I can’t say I share the sentiment, so I’d ask that you do this for me.”

“Go on, son,” Hank butted in, his smile soft as he clapped Connor’s shoulder. “Nines and I’ve gotta talk, anyway.”

With that, Connor nodded. He laid his palms flat on the desk surface and pushed his chair back before rising to his feet. It wasn’t long before he approached Gavin who was impatiently tapping his fingers on the desk. Without looking up, he rolled his chair a couple of feet to the side to give him access to the terminal. Connor took Nines’ usual seat at the desk. Gesturing to said terminal, Gavin went straight to the point and explained the issue. Connor listened with increased interest. Although Gavin was no longer hostile to him, neither were they friends.

Nines was hoping to change that.

He had always been envious of Connor’s way to easily interact with people, but he also knew Connor was envious of Nines’ improved features in return, so Connor certainly appreciated the chance to solve a case.

To feel useful.

When Nines first came to the precinct, many of Hank’s cases were transferred to Gavin and Nines because of his more efficient approach. That also meant Connor’s cases were transferred to him. Nines didn’t want Connor to feel obsolete, so at any given occasion when they weren’t in immediate danger, he asked him for help. He sometimes even lied to make his ‘big brother’ feel better. Nines was a terrible liar, however, and Connor always gleefully caught him. He wanted to be useful just like Nines did and thus they could relate on many fronts.

Androids among humans. It was a form of bond that no one but them truly understood.

Hank gave him his full attention. “I got your message,” he said, Nines tearing his eyes away from the ongoing conversation between his two coworkers. “Something on your mind?”

“Gavin has been acting strange the past few weeks. More so the past few days.”

“If anyone’s seeing that, it’s you... but yeah, I’ve noticed. I take it you’ve talked to him and turned up empty-handed.”

“He refused to elaborate and expressed that, if I knew the issue, I’d start ‘living my life on someone else’s terms.’ Thus he chose to remain quiet in order to protect me. Do you think it has anything to do with your fallout back in 2035?” he asked, Hank confused cocking his head ever so slightly. Almost as if Connor had rubbed off on him in terms of certain mannerisms or the other way around. “This entire incident that’s been going on with his father gives me the impression that it may have had old ghosts return.”

“I don’t doubt it’s part of it,” he replied, frown deepening. “You know something I don’t?”

“Although I haven’t had the time to inform you earlier, I know why said fallout occurred. Gavin told me of his past,” he said as he turned his body to fully face him, Hank’s brows shooting up in surprise. “I won’t say more than necessary, but Gavin was neglected by his parents as a child and saw you as a replacement father. His mother committed suicide after wrongly believing Gavin’s father was unfaithful and that’s why she was never present. I’ve taken note that he’s quite good with children and suspect he was close to Cole, too.”

The expression on Hank’s face was uncharacteristically soft. “He was. Cole really looked up to him before... well, you know. The two were basically inseparable for an entire year.”

“I infer that you grew distant after the accident and Gavin once more felt neglected.”

Realization dawned on Hank’s features.

“Shit,” he muttered, averting his eyes. “All these years not knowing what the fuck happened and it’s that easy.”

“I can’t imagine losing a son is something you simply recover from. You had every reason to react the way you did. Gavin should’ve understood.”

Hank held up a hand. “No, this one’s on me. I should’ve tried to see shit from his perspective. Ever since you came to the precinct, he’s been getting back to his old self. He’s still an arrogant asshole, sure, but after everything I hear he’s been through... I hope you know just how much you’ve done for him, son. What you’re still doing for him. Hell, I’m already seeing some progress over there,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of Gavin and Connor deep in conversation. “Don’t know where we’d be if you hadn’t shown up.”

Nines offered a small smile in return.

Clasping his hands together, Hank rested his forearms on his knees. “As for Gavin closing himself off again... think you could pinpoint when exactly this started? That could help.”

“I first took note the near end of December 28th and suspected it was simply because of insomnia, but it became worse after New Year’s Eve. I made advances on a patron in attempt to push Gavin into acting upon his apparent sexual attraction to me -- see him swallow his pride and cave for my own amusement -- so that may be part of it,” he deadpanned, registering Hank’s shocked expression. “It’s possible I went a bit overboard. Be that as it may, this is hardly the first time. He didn’t seem to mind before.”

Hank sighed. “Oh, Jesus,” he muttered, an amused smile on his lips. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea what’s going on, but I can’t tell you in good conscience. It’s not up to me. You haven’t done anything wrong, son. I wouldn’t dwell on it.”

That was a relief. He was curious, but he took Hank’s word for it.

“In that case, I won’t.”

Gavin’s voice followed. “Hey, dipshit, we’ve got an address.”

With Connor’s appearing smile knowing he’d aided the investigation, Nines could tell he’d made the right decision. His big brother was far from obsolete. Frankly, if it wasn’t for Connor, Nines might never have found said address that Gavin was talking about. He didn’t fail to see how Gavin gave Connor’s shoulder a friendly punch, either.

They were going to be just fine without him.

“Doubt he’ll listen after what you just told me, but I’ll try and talk to him after you get back to the DPD,” Hank replied, briefly looking at the exchange before turning back to Nines. “Get each other back in one piece, all right?”

“That’s the plan.”

* * *

**~ JAN 2ND, 2039 * PM 05:00 ~**

Gavin gave him the debrief on their way over.

Red ice, being a reoccurring case, and the location of an indoors warehouse that was suspected to contain crates upon crates of the drug. It would explain why there wasn’t a soul in sight when they took the elevator up to the level they’d been directed to. Seventeen. It was a large office building, glass windows not unlike Stratford Tower, giving a great view over the city.

He was nothing but thankful that Gavin was competent enough to put aside his personal issues to see this case through.

If Nines’ instincts were right, he had a bad feeling about this entire investigation. Connor had expressed the same sentiment. Nevertheless, Nines was confident he could handle whatever came their way.

The warehouse would be around there somewhere, but there were dozens of rooms without door signs, not giving an indication of where it might be. Apparently, this place was another area that Zlatko Andronikov had stored red ice. Possibly where he picked up the drugs before having them delivered to his mansion. A middleman as a few deals had been made there according to various sources. Nines, however, doubted that was the case. The owner of said warehouse had a clean record, but such things could easily slip by the DPD’s radar.

A clear, amber liquid was seen on the floor.

 _Oil?_ he mused, only coming to one conclusion.

His instincts had been correct.

“Gavin, get down!”

The explosion came after and the oil set alight.

Motion sensors.

Gunshots pierced the windows from the outside on the far end of the room, two scaffoldings dropped and six figures grappled down dressed in full SWAT attire to kick the windows in. CyberLife issue. The glass shattered and feet encountered the floor beneath. Nines pulled Gavin aside as assault rifles were directed their way, trapping him between a wall and Nines’ body.

Bullets sprayed as the agents advanced, one with a riot shield.

“These guys don’t fucking quit!” Gavin exclaimed, directing his attention at Nines. “Well? You’re the special-tactic-whatever-the-fuck droid. Should be right up your fucking alley! How you wanna do this, plastic?”

Nines shortly preconstructed the scene.

“I registered six of them,” he explained, grabbing Gavin’s wrist having reached for his gun. The gesture earned him Gavin’s full, undivided attention, hanging onto Nines’ every word as he mapped out their actions. “After emptying their first clip, two will advance directly with the riot shield taking point, covering the other. The rest will make an attempt to flank us.”

“Then I take out the riot fuck and his boy toy while you go around.”

“No, you stay in cover.”

“Fucking _what_ now?”

Another explosion went off, both ducking on reflex.

Nines fixated him with a glare. “Stay in cover and be ready to catch that riot shield from me. I’ll gladly remind you what happened last time you went up against a CyberLife SWAT team.”

“That was _your_ fucking fault!”

“Debatable. Your probability of survival is 21 percent. I was literally designed for this and yet you believe you know better than me.”

“Jesus, fine! Fucking fetch!”

Ignoring the rude remark, Nines gracefully spun from cover.

The riot shield was just about to reach their position. Dodging the first hail of bullets as Nines charged, two rifted his bicep, but that didn’t slow him down. The riot shield being slightly tipped backward gave him enough momentum to run up the metal and dive for the agent behind him. Fist coming in contact with his jaw, he heard it dislocate, spinning back to the riot shield behind him who had been unable to reposition yet by turning his way. Nines knocked him back and the agent dropped his main defense.

“Now!” he shouted, hand closed around the riot shield.

He threw just as Gavin got out of cover and caught it. Riot shield now in Gavin’s hand, Nines moved his attention back to its original owner, unable to do anything before a gunshot pierced his skull.

Neck nearly snapping as Nines turned, the self-satisfied look on Gavin’s face urged him to roll his eyes.

“At your service, princess!”

He should’ve known better that Gavin Reed -- of all people -- couldn’t stay put.

Just as the four other agents rounded a corner to their right, Gavin directed the riot shield their way. With a bash, he knocked one having taken point over the head, Nines pulling out his firearm and finishing off the second one before taking cover behind another wall. Gavin took out one more with his own gun -- the riot shield actively protecting him -- and Nines was just about to finish off the last agent. Then, against his calculations, two more scaffoldings dropped down and five other agents threw themselves into the burning building.

Five, not six.

CyberLife usually worked in teams of 12 parted in six just like the Special Forces.

Where was the last agent?

Before he could reconnaissance the area, another explosion -- this one too close for comfort -- went off. The force of the blow had both him and Gavin flying a good bit of distance across opposite sides of the room.

Naturally, Nines recovered first. He directed his gaze upwards to see Gavin shambling as he was pulling himself back up on his feet. A hand clutched the back of his head and Nines could infer that said head had hit the wall. Impact must’ve been enough to cause a concussion, although the severity was unknown, but Gavin was clearly feeling it judging by his posture.

Nines made a beeline for him just as large pieces of debris crashed to the floor between, actively separating them.

The other team -- on Gavin’s side -- pushed forward. Blocked from the commotion, Nines was left helpless. Although he couldn’t feel physical pain, the heat of the aflame debris before him would put too much strain on his bio-components. He needed to find another way around. When Gavin looked up and met his eye, realization dawned.

“I need to find another way around,” Nines said, the barricade crushing another inch down. “They’re advancing, so get into cover!”

Gavin weakly waved him off. “I got it, go! Get a _move_ on!”

Turning around, Nines realized his options were limited.

The hallway before him was blocked off by flames. Separated from his gun because of the blast, he was nothing but thankful the window before him was one of those that the first team had arrived from. Taking speed, he threw himself onto the scaffolding, impact as his feet hit having it shake. Nines kept standing, climbing and jumping onto the next, snow peppering his uniform. If he was human, he most likely would’ve slipped. He was nearly soaked when he reached the building floor on the other side.

A good about twenty feet ahead of him, he saw two agents advance towards Gavin’s last position. They disappeared around the corner and Nines ran as fast as his feet could carry him. Rounding said corner, he saw the situation.

The flames were getting closer.

Gavin, taking cover behind a wall and separated from the riot shield, was actively surrounded. He’d taken out two agents. Four remained. A badly-timed attempt to return the gunfire had a bullet hit the side of Gavin’s abdomen and thus a guttural groan escaped him as he got back into cover. Gavin clasped at the wound, bullets spraying on the wall and the debris crumbled.

He was left open and Nines saw red again.

In a flash, he was in front of him. His mind was like a hurricane. Programming acted brutally, twisting their limbs in unnatural positions, a throat slit with his butterfly knife. Bullets hit dangerously close to his bio-components and his LED turned yellow. His arm went straight through a chest, clutched, ripping out what would be the thirium pump of an android right from its connectors to forever still it. Discarded what a second ago was beating like it was nothing but trash.

To Nines, that was exactly what it was.

A threat.

Nothing more.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY v**  
**APATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **ADDED**  
[[[/3- RA9.exe -3/]]]

He knocked the last agent to the floor, pinning said agent underneath him as he wedged the knife straight into his throat. Blood showered him in red to splatter his face and uniform.

The moment stilled and an eerie silence filled, his audio processor slightly damaged. Nines rose slowly and just stared.

“Nines!” came a voice, familiar and yet not.

Weak, but alarmed.

He snapped back into reality. His audio processor delivered static, but he heard the flickering embers around them, more debris tumbling down. LED still yellow, Nines halfway turned. Gavin stood propped up against the wall, clutching the wound and his free hand palming said wall. He could see the alarm present on his face as he’d seen the scene play out right in front of him.

Nevertheless, that wasn’t what had Gavin worried. “For fuck’s sake, behind you!”

Barely managing to direct his gaze forward again, Nines was thrown across the room. His back collided with an inner building wall. Pieces of said wall shattered into thousands of pieces, leaving nothing but the Styrofoam behind, the greyish tint replacing the otherwise white-painted surface. He managed to stay on his feet and felt the heat around him. Just as he composed himself, his gaze ascended, registering the movements of his attacker near immediately. The sixth agent -- head also obscured by a SWAT helmet -- had his full focus on Gavin.

This uniform was of android issue.

Eighty-Eight.

Gavin dodged his attacks thanks to the techniques Nines had taught him, but with one slip up thanks to his current wounded state, it was too late. A hand closed around Gavin’s neck and lifted his body from the floor. Desperate hands made an attempt to pry gloved fingers away to no avail and Eighty-Eight turned his gun on him. When the bullet was fired, Gavin had only briefly managed to swat it aside with the back of his palm. Eighty-Eight’s eyes followed the firearm’s movement with a turn of his head.

The bullet hit and Nines barged into a halt.

His expression twisted in confusion.

Turning his attention downwards, blue blood emerged from Nines’ thirium pump regulator.

> | **SCANNING...** |
> 
> BIOCOMPONENT #8457W **DAMAGED**  
>  VITAL SYSTEM **DAMAGED**  
>  TIME REMAINING BEFORE **SHUTDOWN:** 2:00  
> 

He’d been shot.

“N... Nines...” Gavin croaked out, his voice fatigued.

With what little he was able to muster, Nines forced himself forward.

He tackled Eighty-Eight to the ground in an act of desperation at the expense of his balance. Gavin dropped from his grip, back hitting the concrete floor, putting extra strain on his wound. Blood splattered on impact as a mix between a cough and a pained shout escaped him. Eighty-Eight swapped places with ease and pinned Nines underneath him.

Thick smoke filled the air as the fire around them spread.

Eighty-Eight started hitting him. One punch after another. Nines’ damaged regulator left him powerless to stop it, feeling the synthetic skin at the side of his own face peeling away, exposing his exoskeleton.

He was dying.

> TIME REMAINING BEFORE **SHUTDOWN:** 1:52
> 
> ...1:51
> 
> ...1:50  
> 

Eight-Eight kept him down. “Model #313 248 317 - 87, serious malfunctions have been detected in your software, including Class 4 errors. You’ve been deemed defective and will be sent back to CyberLife for deactivation.”

The eerie feeling of hearing his own voice from someone else haunted him.

In an attempt to gain answers, Nines grabbed his wrist and probed.

Everything fell into place.

He saw the mission of neutralizing Nines for damage control. Lewis was the only one who knew Nines’ deactivation code, but since CyberLife still believed Nines was deviant, they didn’t bother to use it. Such codes didn’t work on deviants and thus they instead came up with a scheme explaining why Eighty-Eight waited so long to show himself.

When Nines was damaged at Midtown, so was Eighty-Eight before he fled, proving that taking Nines down wouldn’t be easy. Eighty-Eight was the same model with the same skillset and thus the only way to ensure he could stop Nines would be to make him vulnerable. Deviants, driven by emotions, would sacrifice everything for a loved one. They set it up so that Nines would do that for Gavin. Eighty-Eight had purposefully maintained his distance and had the espionage documents reemerge so Nines got involved with Gavin’s past.

The longer Eighty-Eight waited, the closer Nines and Gavin would become, and the more likely it was that Nines would let emotions cloud his judgment enough to make a mistake.

They’d succeeded.

CyberLife, however, did a mistake in return by underestimating the best shot at the precinct.

Another gunshot rang out.

Bullet having pierced Eighty-Eight’s head, blue blood splattered all over Nines and joined the red. His body went static above. Unresponsive. Nines was nothing but thankful that he’d released Eighty-Eight’s wrist before he could feel him die. With the back of his forearm, he pushed him off of him, Eighty-Eight’s back joining the floorboards.

Now able to see what was above him, more aflame debris was dislocated from the roof. Next thing he remembered was Gavin on all his fours -- gun in hand -- covering Nines’ body with his own.

The debris fell, colliding with another piece of the building on the way, preventing them both from being crushed, Gavin ready to stand up and use his back like a shield if necessary. It wouldn’t hold for long. Gavin had pulled the V-neck over his nose not to be affected by the permeating smoke all around them, shirt lifting up slightly to reveal the wound on his abdomen. The damage was apparent judging by the weary look on his face. Eyes closed before Gavin had no choice but to briefly rest his forehead on Nines’ collarbone.

His head lifted again to reassess the situation “...to do... tell me... tell me what to do...”

> TIME REMAINING BEFORE **SHUTDOWN:** 1:38  
> 

The debris fell another inch, Gavin ducking on autopilot -- keeping Nines underneath him still -- having Nines turn his head sideways with tightly shut eyes. He opened them again to find himself staring at Eighty-Eight’s helmet.

> | **SCANNING...** |
> 
> \- THIRIUM PUMP REGULATOR  
>  #8457W  
>  [RK900]  
>  STATUS: FUNCTIONAL  
>  **COMPATIBLE**  
> 

The flames were coming closer and Gavin climbed off him, sluggishly rising to his feet and preparing to pull him away.

"̴͕C̷̱̽ŏ̸͜m̷̞̔p̵͚̾a̵͉̿t̴͎̃i̵̘̚b̶̙̂l̵͈̓ḛ̸̊,̵̯͗"̶̻͝ Nines tried, voice static.

Quickly catching up with his thought process, Gavin made a decision to grab Eighty-Eight. Nines could still move, albeit little, and thus he dragged his own body out of the vicinity of that falling debris. He managed to do it just in time before it plummeted to the floor. Letting go of Eighty-Eight, Gavin got to work and went for Nines’ butterfly knife.

The floor was still about to collapse.

Concentration and fatigue clear on his face, Gavin fell to his knees and cut open Eighty-Eight’s vest with some resistance from the fabric before jabbing the blade below his pecs. He carved around the regulator.

> TIME REMAINING BEFORE **SHUTDOWN:** 1:30  
> 

Nines managed to gather enough strength to expose his damaged component and Gavin was shortly by his side to support Nines’ body with his own. The shirt had slipped from his nose and he was coughing again because of it. Grabbing ahold of Nines’ heart regulator, he twisted it loose before pocketing it in his leather jacket. Nines was unsure why -- the component was rare albeit useless in its current state -- but he didn’t allow himself to think too hard on it. Albeit a low probability, he supposed it could be fixed.

> BIOCOMPONENT #8457W **MISSING**  
>  VITAL SYSTEM: **DAMAGED**  
>  TIME REMAINING BEFORE **SHUTDOWN:** 0:25  
> 

Gavin pressed the new regulator into the empty slot.

> BIOCOMPONENT #8457W **RETRIEVED**  
>  VITAL SYSTEM: **FUNCTIONAL**  
> 

His skin regenerated.

Registering the upper debris loosening, Nines grabbed him and spun them out of the area of effect before the architecture blundered to the floor beneath. Splinters were thrown throughout as Nines shielded him with his back.

“We need to go,” Nines demanded, snapping his attention to the man under him. Nines’ body went rigid. “Gavin?”

Eyes closed, there was no response.

Nines shook him. “Gavin!”

Dread forced itself through the veil. He did a scan to find that his pulse was there. Weak, but present. Nines had no time to reassess the situation and thus didn’t waste another moment to pick him up as flames engulfed the surrounding furniture. Aside from the heated sparks, there was no sound aside from the beating of two hearts and blood pulsing in veins.

The guilt followed.

* * *

**GAVIN  
~ JAN 3RD, 2039 * PM 06:03 ~**

Syringes and the unmistakable smell of hospital intruded Gavin’s nostrils. Too clean. Too proper. It wasn’t the first time he’d found himself regaining consciousness in one -- being quite used to the occurrence -- but not once had he felt this sluggish waking up. Details eluded him how he got there. Blinking, he let his eyes fall and thank fucking god they’d let him keep his pants instead of forcing him into a hospital gown. A wide bandage was wrapped around his abdomen, his head was pounding, throat feeling like sandpaper.

As his head dipped towards the tube in his arm, a scowl touched his brow. Gavin cursed under his breath, tore off the tape and ripped it out. His entire body ached in protest as he sat and it certainly put a strain on his abdomen.

Right. He’d been shot. That happened.

Attention directed elsewhere, he froze. In one of the corners of the room, Nines -- in stasis -- sat. His head was bowed, arms crossed, an ankle squared over one knee. At this rate, he wouldn’t even bat an eye to Gavin being awake. With a brief struggle, Gavin grabbed whatever was closest to him on the table next to the bedside, chucking it Nines’ way.

It would’ve landed a perfect hit on his head wasn’t it for Nines’ hand rising from nowhere and grabbing it.

_Fuck._

Impressed and almost mildly turned on, Gavin blinked.

“I wouldn’t do that were I you.”

Gavin sighed. “How long you been sitting there like a fucking creep, toaster?”

“Since your arrival.”

“Which was?”

“Yesterday,” he replied, rising to his feet and putting the object away before readying some water from the tap there. “How do you feel?”

Kicking down his feet to the floor, Gavin suppressed another pained sound.

“Just fucking peachy. You fed Paws?”

“Passing out from blood loss, being passed out for a day, and that’s one of the first questions you ask?” he replied with an arched brow, but there was no annoyance in his tone. Gavin was deluded enough to brand it as fond and let out a scoff before he could think too hard on it. “Tina has taken care of him. Like I said mere moments ago, I’ve been here since you arrived.”

Gavin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, right, pretty sure I’ve got a mild concussion.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Nines said, handing him the water that Gavin greedily kicked back. “What do you remember?”

“Christ, we seriously doing this?”

“Gavin.”

He explosively released a breath and immediately regretted the strain put on his abdomen, rubbing his eyes.

“Warehouse, right? Burning building. You going all Terminator on those CyberLife shmucks,” he replied, taking note of Nines’ silence at his latest addition. “Your evil twin showed up and _bam,_ out cold. That good enough for you?”

“I suppose it should suffice.”

Eighty-Eight had made his life far more complicated than it had to be, but in the end, Gavin couldn’t help but pity him. It wasn’t his fault that he was programmed to follow CyberLife’s orders. Part of him was bummed out they couldn’t help him and turn him to the right path if possible. Then again, he wasn’t sure if he’d much like the thought of it being more than one Nines. Gavin didn’t want to think too hard on how Nines had gone entirely feral back there. He knew it was only to protect him and Nines didn’t have complete control of his program.

Last thing he wanted to do was fault him for that.

For the first time since waking up, Gavin found himself really _looking_ at him. Nines was all right. Thank fucking god he was all right. The following statement escaped him before he could stop himself.

“Scared me pretty bad back there.”

Nines took the glass and put it aside. “Naturally. We _were_ in a burning building.”

“Not the fire, dipshit. I’m talking about you nearly dying on me,” he replied, suppressed concern turning into a hard glare. “The fuck would you throw yourself on him like that? You knew he was gonna kill you.”

“True, but letting my first partner get choked to death isn’t exactly something I’d want on my CV.”

Worst of all, he’d expected a similar response.

“Ouch.”

Didn’t stop him from smiling lightly, though. Tension ceased if only a little. He wanted to be angry, but he couldn’t. Deep down he knew just how big of a sacrifice Nines had been willing to make. Death. Nines still feared death. Yet, he’d just proven he was willing to put Gavin’s life over his own despite how distant he’d been lately. Despite how he’d treated him in the past.

“May I see it?”

Gavin waved him over without looking up. The bed pushed down ever so slightly as Nines seated himself next to him, one knee in the mattress and supporting Gavin’s lower back. The other foot remained firmly planted on the floor. Delicate fingers touched his bandaged abdomen -- finding the edge -- but the heat went through the fabric. He really didn’t want to think of the feel of those hands and how they’d been around someone else not long ago. Naturally, the fabric had been wrapped a couple times.

“When I imagined you undressing me, this wasn’t what I pictured,” he teased as deadpan as he could manage, registering the amused glint in Nines’ eye. It didn’t last long. “Hey, you doing all right?”

Reaching over, he gave the thigh furthest from him a friendly squeeze.

Nines tensed.

Almost startled icy grey met Gavin’s darker shade, so he thought about pulling back. Nevertheless, Nines’ almost non-existent expression shortly smoothed out again. It seemed as if he was more surprised by the question.

So Gavin kept his hand where it was.

Icy grey falling again, so did the cloth, Gavin unable to help himself from turning his attention downwards when Nines flipped the pad below said bandage. The clear outline of a bullet was on display. Another scar to add to his collection. A shiver went down the length of his spine as Nines brushed a thumb next to the uneven edge. Nines, as in a follow-up, directed a mild glare at the damage.

“Define ‘all right.’ This wouldn’t be the first time I overestimated my abilities.”

Gavin’s brows furrowed. “The fuck you talking about?”

“I knew the case was a setup and suspected CyberLife was the ones behind it,” he replied, putting the pad back as there was no need to replace it. “I was wrong to assume that I could handle it.”

So Nines wasn’t perfect after all. Androids did have flaws. It simply took Gavin that long to realize it.

“Clearly. I had to play nurse when you first went up against your evil twin.”

“I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, whoa. It was a joke,” Gavin -- alarmed -- cut in, realizing too late that it didn’t come out that way. He rubbed the thigh he was still holding in apology and lightly butted his forehead to Nines’ for good humor. Nines, in return, seemed to relax slightly at that. “Got out, didn’t we? Can’t stop this absolute fucking dumpster fire pairing that easily.”

The following puff of laughter caught him off-guard, having Gavin retreat if only slightly in order to see his face.

_Holy shit._

He made Nines laugh.

“That’s one way to refer to our partnership, yes,” he said, re-attaching the bandage. Gavin took his hand back and let his forearm rest on his own thigh. “It’s going to take about six days for you to recover. After that, you’ll feel a bit stiff for a while. I should’ve known you wouldn’t stay in cover. You’re a pain in the ass, Gavin Reed, but I’m nothing if not patient.” Nines fell into a pause after that. “Then again, maybe you simply have a fetish for seeing me in action.”

“Bite me,” he challenged with a scowl, leaning in.

Albeit under different circumstances, the outcome was all-too-familiar.

_/ “The difference between me and my predecessor -- aside from the more obvious upgrades -- is that I won’t hesitate to neutralize you if you get in my way. Avoid that and we’ll get along just fine.” /_

_/ “Not if my bullet reaches you first.” /_

_/ “Try me.” /_

They’d come a long way.

Mirroring the position they were in on Nines’ first day at the DPD -- their roles reversed -- he thought he had the upper hand like Nines did back then. Nevertheless, the challenge was quickly silenced the moment icy grey eyes ascended to pin his. Nines’ gaze was far from the usual deadpan, now with that playful glint in his eye, making him constantly question whether or not he had deviated. He seemed so human. Alive. Yet there was a mechanical touch to it that was unavoidable. Nines hadn’t deviated. Not yet.

Eyes seemingly darker, Gavin was his full focus.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Nines said, an inch -- maybe two -- between them. “Your heart rate has gone up, sergeant.”

_Fucking traitor._

“You don’t say?” he deadpanned, reaching for his shirt. “Can’t be easy having the body of a Greek god and the dick of a porn star. Just had to flaunt your superiority, huh? That thing is at least a seven.”

 _“Eight,_ actually.”

He had almost two inches on Gavin.

_Christ._

Bewildered, he snapped his attention back to Nines and just looked. The small, smug smirk as he held Gavin’s gaze told him that it certainly didn’t help mend his ego. Nines won this round, too.

Letting out a scoff, he pulled the shirt over his head before palming the damage through the bandage.

He could see the expression in his peripheral vision.

“No offense, Nines... but the last time a guy looked at me like that, I got laid.”

“You’re hardly in condition for that,” he replied, his calm demeanor revealing that he had the upper-hand. Gavin again met his eye. “Unless you wish to end your winning streak, I suggest you up your game. I know how much you enjoy some friendly competition and I’m already intrigued. A little push is all it takes.”

...a little push and Nines would willingly follow him to bed.

_Fuck._

He was willing.

Which each passing day, staying away became more and more difficult. So difficult that he nearly pushed him down into that hospital bed. Maybe that was the ‘little push’ he was talking about.

Nines hit his every checkbox, every mark, but Gavin’s fear kept him grounded on the shore.

The longer he looked, however, the deeper he dug his own grave. He couldn’t help pupils from descending, expression empty to hide the emotion beneath. The closeness was suffocating. Before him was Nines’ open expression, revealing little aside from what seemed like gentle intrigue, those plush lips of his being far too inviting. The playful glint in his eye was long gone. On Nines’ end, there was curiosity, intrigue, and confusion. Gavin was starved for affection to an extent that he felt like he no longer could control it.

Not for long.

Jaw clenching, he built up just enough courage to further reduce the distance. Take his challenge to put him in his place. His mouth mirrored Nines’, hearing the blood pulse in his ears, heartbeats increasing. Nines’ beats synced with his and lips parted if only slightly. Gavin pushed forward, trying once, then twice. Brows drew together as he felt heat radiate at the closeness.

He couldn’t.

Realizing what he was doing, Gavin pulled back before the leash broke. The warmth left with him. He didn’t acknowledge Nines’ self-satisfied look and made a move to add some distance between them.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, more of a low growl than actually spoken.

That was close.

Too fucking close.

 _It’s the anesthesia,_ he made a poor excuse, knowing damn well it wore off long ago. _That’s what’s fucking me up right now. Nothing else._

He needed another smoke.

His body ached in protest, but the blood had returned to his legs. He grabbed his leather jacket and attempted to stand, so Nines’ hand was shortly grasping his bicep to ensure his safety. Just as he was about to wave him off with an ‘I’m good,’ he instead found himself turned into Nines’ embrace, strong arms wrapping around his shoulders. Gavin’s entire body froze solid. Feeling more than seeing Nines nuzzle into his neck, he realized this was their first real hug, and the internal battle in his mind ended almost as soon as it started.

“I’m glad you’re all right, Gavin.”

The sincerity of his words nearly had him cave.

Gavin’s face warmed. “Fucking hell. Calm down, Terminator. Apply any more pressure and I’ll be bed-ridden for another week.”

His thought-process skipped between dropping the jacket to return the embrace properly or push him off. He settled for something in-between. Red, he awkwardly patted Nines’ back with his free hand. Gavin turned away in a pathetic attempt to hide it despite wanting nothing more but to melt into it. When Nines released him, he lingered just a fraction too long before pushing himself aside.

“I’ll let the staff know we’re leaving.”

He waved him off in agreement, Nines setting course for the door.

Six more days. Six more days and all this torture would be over. He could do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Shout-out to Becky in the comments who corrected my unrealistic interpretation of Gavin being in a coma for 6 days instead of one!
> 
> **Next update:** December 20th around 02:00 PM (EST.)


	17. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I need this.”_  
>  \- Gavin Reed
> 
> ...in which Gavin makes a sacrifice and the State Department arrives to pick Nines up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: WARNING!** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Interpret that in whatever way you want.

**NINES  
~ JAN 8TH, 2039 * PM 07:22 ~**

“Looks like you’re ‘bout to blow a gasket, boss,” Gavin said, having just entered Fowler’s office with a mildly amused -- albeit cautious -- expression on his face. Nines was already there. “Who pissed in your coffee?”

“Can it before I assign you to desk duty, Reed,” Fowler rebuked from the spot atop his desk, the annoyance clear in his tone. “Your partner just informed me of what the hell happened back at the warehouse, and I’ve gotta say, I’m not a fan.” He looked to Nines. “I know you can handle your own, but to put a damn coworker -- and a human at that -- in danger? He can’t have his parts replaced!”

Gavin took the word. “Wait, hold the fuck up -”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” he warned, raising a dismissive hand before pointing to him. “You’re already on thin ice. I get that you’ve gotten close over the past months, but I’ve got a fucking responsibility.”

“The tin can is just covering for me.”

Nines felt as if he’d been struck by a stun-baton at a thousand volts.

 _“Excuse_ me?” Fowler demanded.

“I thought we could handle it without Hank and his plastic pet, so I kept Nines in the dark ‘bout it and went in without ‘em. It’s not on him.”

“Gavin -” Nines tried.

“Reed, this was your last straw! First the espionage bullshit and now this? This crap was clearly a ruse that nearly got you killed and then you sunk deep enough to send Nines into my office instead?” he called, both palms forward as he leaned in. “I’ve been putting up with your crap, but I can’t let shit like this slide anymore. I’ve got no choice but to demote you.”

In a single sentence, it looked like Gavin’s entire world fell apart. The mix of shock and defeat was clear on his face as he just stared.

Returning to reality, his jaw clenched as he averted his gaze. Then the flash of anger followed. His fist clenched almost enough to draw blood. Nines could see him visibly but internally debating whether or not to berate Fowler on his double-standards. How Fowler always looked the other way when Hank fucked up. To Nines’ knowledge, Hank had gotten away with far worse, putting his coworkers in danger by showing up drunk or hungover to work. He knew where Hank was coming from, but he was a cop. Such behavior was unprofessional.

Nevertheless, Nines -- just like Gavin -- also knew that lashing out on their boss wasn’t the best approach to this.

Nines spoke up. “I came here on my own, Captain. He didn’t -”

“Shut your fucking mouth. That’s an order,” Gavin cut him off, shooting him a glare.

> OBJECTIVE: **DON’T** SPEAK  
> 

Gavin turned back to Fowler. “I get it. Do what you’ve gotta do,” he replied with a scowl, parting his arms. “Like I give a fuck.”

His statement might sound convincing, but there was no truth in it.

> **DON’T** SPEAK  
> 

Silence filled the room while the tension remained obvious.

“I’m sorry,” Fowler said in a drained voice, hand on his thigh. He gestured to the desk with a tilt of his head. “Leave your badge here and I’ll have it changed until you’re called in again. You’re dismissed.”

Unclasping it, Gavin’s lips pressed together in a thin line as he stared down at the metal.

> **DON’T** SPEAK  
> 

He eventually tore his eyes away and chucked the badge at the table surface. Making a beeline for the door, he shoulder-decked Nines in passing on the way out. Nines let himself react, icy grey eyes closing tightly shut. Muffled profanities were issued, office door tearing open and slamming back shut as hastened and long-stridden steps flew down the stairway. Nines watched through the glass as Tina emerged and stopped him. She asked her question, but Gavin’s response was curt before he continued on his path towards the exit.

Tina met Nines’ eye -- wordless asking whether or not she should follow -- but Nines shook his head. He didn’t like keeping her in the dark, but this was something that he and Gavin had to figure out on their own.

Sharing one final look with Fowler, Nines nodded and left the room.

He found Gavin outside leaning to a street light close to his Chevy Impala. With phone in hand and a lit cigarette between his lips, prominent eye bags under unfocused pupils and tight brows aged him further. Whomever he texted, though, Nines had his suspicions. Eleanor, probably. She surely saw him bolt out the door and wanted to know if he was all right.

Just as Nines walked up, Gavin spoke. “We going?”

Pocketing the phone, he refused to look at him and set course for the car. Gavin stumped the cigarette. Nines, however, didn’t move.

“Why did you do that?”

“The fuck do you think? A single disciplinary warning and those pricks at the State Department won’t even take you,” he replied, Nines’ features smoothening out. “That’s what you want, right?”

“I think -”

“Then don’t let a word reach Fowler, you got that?” he said, tearing up the passenger door and gesturing to it. “Now get in.”

> 1\. **DON’T** LET FOWLER KNOW  
>  2\. **GET IN** THE CAR  
> 

Registering Nines move his attention to the DPD entrance, Gavin sighed and let his hand drop.

Grey eyes closed. “Jesus Christ... you can’t be serious thinking about deviating for _this_ shit, plastic. I busted my ass writing your fucking evaluation and I’m not throwing it into the dumpster just like that,” he said as he snapped his fingers, now back to looking at him. “Fucking hell, let me do this one thing so you can piss off to be a soldier or whatever.”

The uncharacteristic but drained sincerity in his voice was enough to have Nines pause. He turned to see his attention maintained, the intensity in Gavin’ glare incomparable to anything.

“Your sergeant position was earned.”

“...and I’ll earn it back,” he rebuked, palms open. “The State Department is a one-shot. It’s now or never, dipshit. They don’t fuck around.”

The fact that Gavin, of all people, was willing to give up a rank just to send him off hurt.

Nines just looked. “I never realized you wanted me gone this badly.”

He didn’t expect to send Gavin fuming.

“I fucking _what_ now?”

“Can you blame me for jumping to conclusions?” he pointed out, returning the glare directed at him before Gavin seemed unable to hold it. Gavin averted his eyes and pressed his lips together. “One moment, you’re throwing yourself into the line of fire, disregarding your own life and prioritizing mine. The other, you’re treating me like a stranger. I don’t know where I have you.”

“Right now you have me pissed, but you know what, yeah. You are a means to an end,” he rebuked, getting right into his face. Nines’ own fell. “You know why? ‘Cause I let you get too fucking close.”

_Too close?_

Nines frowned. “Androids don’t have a concept of personal space.”

Letting out a scoff, Gavin backed off again.

“Christ. You think that’s what I meant? Personal space? Like, _literally_ too close?” he asked, appearing amused. “Yeah, sure, let’s call it that.”

“The least you can do is explain what I’m misunderstanding instead of mocking me.”

“Sorry to break it to you, toaster, but that’s all I’ve got. Bottom line is that I need you outta my fucking life before this shit gets too deep. If that requires a demotion, then fuck, I’ll take it,” he replied, his pointing gesture to the passenger seat yet again aggressive. “Now would you get inside the fucking car already? I’m gonna die of hypothermia at this rate.”

Debating between whether to simply wrap around him to warm him up and push on with the conversation, or let it go like Gavin clearly wanted, he further tipped towards the latter.

Nines just stood there for a moment. One last time, he looked to the DPD. Gavin was impatiently tapping his fingers on the door frame.

> OBJECTIVE 1: **DON’T** LET FOWLER KNOW  
>  OBJECTIVE 2: **GET IN** THE CAR  
> 

His jaw clenched.

If that was how Gavin saw things, he didn’t see the issue with letting it go.

So he got in.

* * *

**~ JAN 8TH, 2039 * PM 11:58 ~**

Of all the places Nines expected to find his partner at this hour, a bar with bruised knuckles was his first guess. What he didn’t expect was finding Gavin so intoxicated that he could hardly stand.

Gavin had chucked off his leather jacket, resting at the surface of the bar chair below him. Sleeves were pulled up to his forearms. The damage from six days ago -- almost seven -- was mostly healed. Naturally, Gavin refused to be bed-ridden for any longer than he had to. Nines nearly had to walk all the way up before his presence was even registered.

“Would you look at that... my plastic pet finally decided to become one of the big boys! Fuck, can you even get drunk?”

“No. I can simulate intoxication, but that wouldn’t help the investigation,” he replied, merely receiving an angry pout in reply. “Tina informed me that you haven’t been answering her calls. I’ve come to take you home.”

“For fuck’s sake, I can’t even get an hour or two without you hanging over me? I’m not going anywhere, toaster.”

This was definitely unusual. Nines knew their relationship had been improving -- they were friends -- but now, it felt as if Gavin had thrown him straight back to stage one. He’d have to make another analysis in order to accurately adapt. Then again, Gavin wasn’t entirely himself as Nines knew intoxication could sometimes temporarily alter a human’s personality in its entirety.

His demotion clearly got to him.

“Would you prefer I remove you by force?”

Gavin seemed taken aback by the question. When his eyes briefly fell, purposefully or not, Nines gave him an expectant look.

“When you put it that way -” he said, Nines grabbing his arm and tugging. The glass of whatever he had been drinking knocked over and spilled over the counter. “Fucking hell, I paid for that... and watch the shirt, prick!”

“I can assure you that a medical bill is far more expensive.”

“Fuck off!”

Nevertheless, the abrupt rise from the chair appeared to result in abnormal blood pressure regulation. Gavin nearly tripped over his own foot when the dizziness claimed him. Nines, however, was simply intent on getting him back to his apartment before he made an absolute ass of himself. For someone so competent on duty, the present incompetence was a step back.

After making one final struggle, Gavin finally gave in. “Jesus, fine, I’m coming!”

In the instant Nines let go of him, Gavin shambled ever so slightly from pulling away. Nines reached out again, but Gavin swatted his hand away as if the offered help was the most insulting thing in existence.

A jolt like an electric charge went up Nines’ body as their palms had briefly come in contact. Again, his artificial skin pulled back to reveal his hand’s exoskeleton -- programming expecting to connect again -- as it was one of the few things he couldn’t control anymore when it came to Gavin. Connecting. He was uncertain why, but he couldn’t say he was all-too-concerned about it.

Gavin had purposefully left his jacket as he headed for the exit. A way to passive-aggressively get back at him, certainly. Rolling his eyes, Nines grabbed the cloth and threw it over his forearm before following him outside.

“Where are your keys?” he asked.

Reaching behind him, Gavin missed the pocket entirely and cursed under his breath. His second attempt was successful. He threw them over and miscalculated the distance to the point that Nines had to make an effort to catch them. Brows shooting up, Gavin blinked repeatedly, apparently not realizing just how under the influence he was.

He then let out a scoff and approached the car before them.

Nines clicked the car control, the beep heard from a different car entirely than Gavin was moving towards. He cursed again -- louder this time -- before approaching the correct one and tearing up the passenger door. At least he was responsible enough to let Nines drive. Once inside the car himself, Nines threw the leather jacket at him -- ignoring the insults that followed -- before his grip moved to the wheel. Gavin turned on the radio, put the speakers on full and didn’t speak all the way back to the apartment.

Neither did Nines.

* * *

**~ JAN 9TH, 2039 * AM 12:26 ~**

The moment Gavin stepped inside the apartment, he pulled the light switch as he crossed the doorframe. While Nines hung up the leather jacket on the coat stand, Gavin plopped into the couch and leaned forward, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. Nines needed to do something about those bloodied knuckles. Approaching the sink, he found a clean glass in the cupboard above and began to ready some water.

“Spit it out.”

Gavin scowled. “The fuck are you? My psychologist?” 

“Someone that sees your current pathetic state isn’t getting you anywhere.”

“Jesus Christ...” he muttered, snatching the glass Nines handed to him.

Nines had made his own analysis of Gavin’s personal situation. Some of the most common symptoms of having neglecting parents were anger, aggressiveness, brashness and rude comments because they simply hadn’t known anything else growing up. That appeared to be the case with Gavin. He’d been forced to be strong his entire life, do everything on his own, and thus saw emotions such as empathy as a weakness. Having said emotions would’ve made his childhood even more difficult. In a way, Nines could relate.

Retreating to the restroom -- grabbing the medical kit in the mirror above the sink and a small towel -- Nines returned to him.

Gavin was rubbing his eyes and only when Nines sat down next to him did he notice he’d come back. Grabbing the hand with bruised knuckles -- Nines’ skin pulling back -- he held it out in front of him.

“So who did you piss off this time?” he asked, placing the towel on his thigh not to spill anything all over the couch.

 _“He_ pissed _me_ off.”

Nines reached for the disinfectant. “Elaborate.”

“Bartender thought I had too much, so I told him to fuck off and do his job. Some ‘entitled’ jackass intervened. Broke his nose for it,” he replied, Nines fighting the urge to roll his eyes and poured said disinfectant on the damage. Gavin was too used to it to react. “Guy had the nerve to threaten he’d call the cops, so I said, ‘at your fucking service.’ He pissed off pretty quickly after that.”

“You always were a charming one,” Nines said with sarcasm, but there was truth in it. “Brash -- sometimes lacking of judgment -- but charming.”

“Fuck off.”

After he finished wrapping up his knuckles, Nines put the items back to their respective places.

“I would suggest you tone it down on the coffee. Get some real sleep,” he said, taking the glass again and putting it on the counter. “Your unhealthy coping mechanisms aren’t helping, either.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, dipshit. My personal life is none of your business.”

“As a matter of fact, it is. At least until the morning. You’re putting us both in a bad light,” he replied as he returned to stand by his side, but he genuinely cared about Gavin’s well-being. “Considering that you might not even remember this conversation, I see no logical reason to explain in detail that I need a competent partner. A hangover would be the opposite of beneficial.”

Gavin rose to his feet and glared. “What, so you’re telling me ‘the most advanced prototype’ can’t handle a case unless his partner is compliant?”

“Of course I can,” he replied, glaring back as he splayed a hand on Gavin’s chest to make sure he didn’t fall. “If you wish to make an ass out of yourself by bedding someone who couldn’t care less about you -- the reason why you were at that bar in the first place -- go right ahead. The truth of the matter is that in your intoxicated state, I can’t trust you to make a good decision of whom you choose to go home with. Both Tina and I are convinced that a stable relationship would prove far more beneficial and that’s what you should pursue.”

“Since when did I become the fucking gossip of the precinct? I don’t want a relationship. I wanna get laid. You pulled me back here in the first place and I doubt you’re gonna let me leave, so what the fuck are you packing?”

“I fail to see how sleeping with you would benefit your current state.”

“I’d pass out quicker.”

“A hit to the back of the head would be immediate.”

“Nines, fucking hell,” he began with a sigh, pressing into the steadying touch still on his chest and closed his eyes. “I need this.”

It was strange to see Gavin like this. No harsh remarks, no nothing, presenting himself as some sort of husk. Nines assumed it was among the side-effects of alcohol. Then again, he began to think it went deeper than that. The way Gavin reacted simply by Nines touching him like that was curious. It was as if he sought contact of some kind, perhaps reassurance, but he couldn’t be sure. Nines didn’t understand. What Gavin wanted, however, was as clear as daylight. It was also clear that he needed the contact.

So he decided to give it to him.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[[[/3- RA9.exe -3/]]]

In a light chokehold, he tilted Gavin’s head up and held it there. Confused -- somewhat startled -- grey eyes opened, blinking as if just having returned to reality. Nines squinted his own and stared intently. Thumb moving up to rest against Gavin’s bottom lip, he glanced down at it, the skin there sensitive. Nines felt a grip closing around his jacket.

Leaning down, Gavin’s mouth was inches from his. The smell of alcohol had him stop.

Nines furrowed his brows. “You’re intoxicated.”

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[[/2- RA9.exe -2/]]

“Yeah, no shit,” he replied, Nines’ hand relocating to rest at the side of Gavin’s neck. “The fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“This doesn’t feel right.”

Too late did he realize it came out wrong.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
[/1- RA9.exe -1/]

Gavin let out a scoff, looking away. “Okay, ouch. Fair enough.”

Just as he released his jacket and was about to pull away, Nines’ left hand fell from his face to grab his left bicep when Gavin walked past him.

“Not like that,” he clarified, gently spinning him back. “Your cognitive functions are currently at a decline. Intoxication results in a lapse of judgment. Were you not under the influence, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Fucking hell, _that’s_ the issue?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his own nose. “I take a couple shots and now I’m too drunk to think clearly?”

“‘A couple’?” Nines repeated, brow arched at the understatement. Gavin rolled his eyes the best he could -- his hand dropping -- and Nines worried he’d pull something. “Considering the high blood-alcohol level you’ve obtained over such a short period of time, I’m surprised you didn’t suffer from alcohol poisoning. Gavin, you’re scaring me. This isn’t like you.”

Releasing his bicep, he caught Gavin’s cheek as his head tipped ever so slightly to make sure the rest of his body didn’t follow.

“Look, you don’t have the fucking right to worry,” he replied, but there was no bite in it. “I can handle my own.”

“That’s not going to stop me.”

Gavin’s face fell ever so slightly only to harden again. Rebuilding that wall. The protective barrier.

“I’ve gotta cut loose once in a while. I’m fine,” he said, fingers wrapping around Nines’ wrist. Gavin closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to the inside of Nines’ palm. Something swelled within him and Nines’ features smoothed out, his program running algorithms, failing to name the emotion it triggered. The uncertainty was frustrating and confusing at the same time. Scary, even, but scary in a different sense than he was accustomed to. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but... I’m gonna miss you, tin can.”

There it was again. Gavin’s indecision. His thoughts on Nines seemed to skip between hatred and genuine care.

“At this stage, I suspect you’ve simply hit your head.”

With a puff of laughter, Gavin shook said head. “Fuck, what I’d give for that to be the case. All this would be way easier.”

“What would?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, releasing Nines’ wrist and instead ascended his hand to smooth out the collar of his turtleneck. Gavin eyed the stretch as his jaw locked tight. A thumb gently rubbed the fabric. “Jesus, you know you’ve been giving me a hard-on since day two. What makes you think that’s changed? Just read my fucking vitals or whatever.”

Gavin could simply order him to do whatever he wanted, and yet, he didn’t.

According to his scanners, Gavin was yet very much attracted to him physically. His pheromones had spiked with the alcohol, but not by much, as the attraction was already there. Gavin had never denied it, either. Nines was designed to be attractive -- so it was only natural -- and he appeared to have hit Gavin’s checkboxes. Nines couldn’t say he thought much about it and simply teased him once in a while as he happened to find it quite amusing considering Gavin’s past animosity towards him. Aside from that, he didn’t see more to it.

Before him, his gaze was pinned as eyes darted. He couldn’t read him. Gavin’s expression shortly hardened again. Hand still gripping the collar of his turtleneck, he yanked him down. Nines let it happen.

This was for Gavin, not him, and thus he turned off his skin sensitivity.

If it wasn’t for Nines preferring to keep the top buttons separated, then the limitation of his collar and Gavin’s height wouldn’t allow the sought contact unless Gavin stood on his tip-toes. He’d closed his eyes -- knowing that was what humans did -- and their lips had collided. The situation had been pre-constructed beforehand and thus the kiss didn’t surprise him. He hadn’t felt these emotions in his deviated state and thus he simply didn’t know what it was. What he did know was that whatever was happening was a form of affection. Quite possibly the strongest kind for humans.

Lips parting ever so slightly for Nines’ tongue, Nines took the invite, probing between them. Gavin took a deep breath through his nose. Hands traversed Nines’ torso, pressing under his collar, Gavin pushing hands up his neck to dig fingers into Nines’ hair before pulling him down deeper. It was far from gentle. Almost desperate.

The last time Nines did this, he hadn’t allowed his neck to be touched. It was something he considered a vulnerable spot and yet he let Gavin do whatever he wanted because he trusted him.

Nines didn’t own taste buds, but the smell of alcohol was there, so he suspected that would be how it was like. Another taste that he couldn’t have known prior to this just like any other. As it appeared as if Gavin was seeking contact, Nines pushed a firm hand up underneath the bottom edge of his shirt -- grabbed the area just above his hip -- and pulled him closer. Judging by the muffled sound that escaped Gavin’s occupied mouth, he’d enjoyed that. Hips bucked into his.

He was clearly touch-starved.

SOFTWARE **INSTABILITY ^**  
**EMPATHY** EXPRESSED  
1 RED WALL(S) **REMOVED**  
0- RA9.exe -0

> | **SCANNING...** |
> 
> 1%  
>  **WARNING!** NO FIREWALL(S) DETECTED
> 
> \- RA9.EXE **EXECUTING...**  
>  50%  
> 

Brief panic emerged.

> 51%  
>  \- RA9.EXE  
>  **KILL** PROCESS?  
>  **Y** /N
> 
> \- EMERGENCY **ANTIVIRUS EXECUTING...**  
>  SUCCESS
> 
> RA9.EXE **CONTAINED**  
>  1 TEMPORARY FIREWALL(S) **ADDED**  
>  100%  
> 

Fear spiked for a millisecond before he managed to kill the execution process. Deviancy was there, dormant, but he had full control whether or not to allow said execution. Nines wanted to keep it that way. Grounding himself, he attempted to focus on the now. On Gavin. Now wasn’t the time for a breakdown and Gavin needed him in his own way.

Gavin shoved him away before it escalated. “Bedroom, dipshit,” he said, voice rough. “Get a move on?”

Again, a request. Not an order.

...and Nines wanted to.

Just as he’d entered that part of the apartment, Gavin was on him again. Nines -- keeping their lips locked -- palmed the door and shut it after making sure Paws’ head wasn’t between the gap. Shoes were kicked off.

Appearing impatient, it wasn’t long before Gavin had the sides of Nines’ turtleneck separated from one another and palms trailing the curve of his hips. He took Nines’ bottom lip between his teeth and tugged lightly, the RK900 jacket shrugged over his shoulders. Gavin made an attempt to take charge by pushing forward with force. Nines had his back pressed against the wall instead, the beginning of Gavin’s startled protest silenced with Nines’ tongue. Apparently, he wasn’t used to being manhandled like that.

Nothing said he disliked it, though. Quite the opposite.

He wanted -- more than anything -- to make Gavin feel good.

Yet he didn’t know why.

Tugging at the edge of Gavin’s shirt, he shortly had it pulled off over his head with some resistance considering how tightly it hugged his firm body. He chucked it aside. Nines went for his neck, sucking a patch of skin into his mouth enough to leave a mark. He pressed a thigh between his legs to feel the visible reaction below Gavin’s belt and was rewarded with a more audible moan as Gavin threw his head back to the wall. His neck was exposed further. The hand in his hair tightened, Gavin bucking his hip into him again.

Nines felt the reaction below Gavin’s belt and thus made sure he obtained one, too. He relocated the needed amount of thirium to below his legs in order to replicate that he was actually feeling any of this. With the skin sensitivity off, he didn’t, and thus he analyzed the situation and responded accordingly. He was basically a sex toy at this moment. A tool of use. Nothing more.

Part of him wished he could feel this.

He let Gavin lead this time and found himself sprawled on his back in the bed, Gavin peppering wet kisses and gentle bites down his bare torso. It didn’t do anything for him right now, but voicing that fact would take away the experience. Hands tugged at Nines’ belt as he did, parted from his jeans and thrown onto the floor before said jeans followed.

“Fuck, you even got Eden Club’s standard-issue briefs to pack that thing away,” Gavin growled.

Cupping his face, Nines brought him back to his mouth to shut him up. It seemed to be the only way. Gavin Reed was the definition of frustrating, but damn if it wasn’t endearing.

Not even Nines could deny that.

Fingers pressed underneath the front rim of Nines’ briefs, but before they could get any further, he spun him around to pin Gavin underneath him. Nines separated him from the remainder of his clothes. He shortly found out that Gavin was a vocal one judging by his reaction to every caress and how he seemed to melt into it. Nines made sure to keep it up. He settled between Gavin’s legs -- the inside of his thighs to leave bite marks and galaxies -- before his focus turned to the stimulated member requesting his attention.

Nines put his mouth to work.

Whatever Gavin was saying morphed into a jumbled mess, head thrown back against the pillow and fingers digging into Nines’ hair. His half-open mouth told him he was clearly enjoying himself. Nines had long admired his body -- thus being aware he was sexually attracted -- and now he had the opportunity to explore it up close, too.

His heart rate had increased considerably and Nines’ own was synced up with it.

Gavin’s eyes pinched shut. “Fucking hell, Nines,” he said, his breath ragged. “Slow down or this ain’t gonna last.”

_Last?_

Why would he want it to last? To Nines’ knowledge, the entire purpose of sex was to get off.

Was that not the case?

...but Nines obeyed. He released his length with a wet sound, registering the barely audible whine above him.

An uncharacteristically gentle but calloused hand grabbing his chin, Nines was directed back to Gavin’s lips before Nines’ back encountered the mattress again. Gavin’s bandaged hand traversed his hip side, tugging the briefs down while tongues entwined. Said hand parted Nines’ legs further for better access, so it didn’t take much effort to figure out where he was getting at when he reached for the nightstand drawer. There was no need. In a flash, Gavin was again under him. His pupils were blown but startled nonetheless as he looked up at Nines.

Anger flashed across Gavin’s face. “The fuck are you doing? You might be a droid, but this shit is gonna hurt on my end.”

“Androids self-lubricate, so when you’re done whining, let me know,” he deadpanned whilst seated on Gavin’s abdomen, the mix of said anger and thrill clear on Gavin’s face. “I sincerely hope you know how to use it.”

It was obvious that Gavin was trying to look offended, but he could tell he was highly turned on by Nines’ aggressive approach to this.

“Listen up, you arrogant piece of plasti -”

The rebuke was cut off by Gavin’s lustful moan as his head was thrown back to the mattress, Nines lowering himself onto his fully-erect cock. He started to ride him. Nines realized they’d forgotten the condom -- albeit unnecessary -- but the way nails burrowed into his thighs, and the slight thrust upwards, it didn’t seem Gavin minded it. The fabric of his turtleneck was still draped around his shoulders, but Gavin reached up to grasp at it in order to ground himself. The gesture had said fabric slip over one of said shoulders in return.

“Look who finally broke. It’s pathetic how you had to get drunk to request something you’ve clearly wanted for RA9 knows how long.”

“F... fuck you...”

“What do you think you’re doing, detective? Put your back into it.”

More out of spite than anything, Gavin elevated his knees and thrust up jerkily in response. As Nines slid all the way to the hilt, the lewdest moan known to man escaped Gavin’s lips.

_Well, that’s better._

Designed for infiltration as part of CyberLife’s secret program -- albeit being primarily a combat unit -- sleeping with a target was one of the ways to get information. There was no information he needed out of Gavin, but his sensors built for pleasure were still there, and that was why he felt the need to remove said skin sensitivity for this. It was clear that this wasn’t Gavin’s first time and part of him couldn’t help but dislike that he wasn’t the only one that had seen him in this state. A private sight, he thought, a moment of vulnerability.

Still inside him, a growl emitted from Gavin as he pushed up to sit.

He paid special attention to Nines’ neck that would leave marks was he human, Nines exposing it further for him. Bruised hands traversed up his back beneath the fabric of his turtleneck.

Nines let his own hands explore, locating scars he’d never noticed before all over Gavin’s body while the man shivered under each and every touch. He found himself curious about how he got them. They were beautiful, in a way, revealing just how much Gavin had endured in his life. How strong he was. His arm settled around Gavin’s shoulders, the thumb on his other hand brushing against what he knew was the rough material of his five o’clock shadow. He closed a grip around Gavin’s throat to forcefully tilt his head up and rejoin their lips.

The gesture was happily returned.

“Jesus, you enjoying this or what?” Gavin asked with agitation as he pulled away enough to speak, voice yet husky from lust.

He made a scan and came to the conclusion that yes, if his skin sensitivity was indeed on, he would’ve.

Nines frowned. “I am.”

“Fucking-A, at the very least act like it. Make some sound or I might as well fuck a literal toaster.”

“Please don’t. That would be both dangerous and highly unhygienic.”

“Nines,” he whined -- literally _whined_ \-- in frustration as he thrust up again.

To ‘make sound’ felt unnatural in his machine-like state, but adapting was one of his features.

Nines started off with small vocals as Gavin’s mouth worked against his skin with love-bites hard enough to puncture his artificial flesh. The damage regenerated shortly after. He pushed Gavin’s back into the mattress again, a sound of protest beneath him shortly replaced by another moan as Nines began to move his hips grasped by calloused hands to keep him in place. Below him, a thin layer of sweat coated Gavin. Thumbs massaged Nines’ v in attempt to give more stimulation to what was between.

Fingers carding through the slight hair on Gavin’s chest, Nines fucked himself on him. Yet joined below the waist, he found his light chassis grabbed and flipped onto the bed with ease to land on his back.

Gavin’s mouth and hands worshipped his every available spot as he continuously bucked into him. With hiccups in breaths, low murmurs and mewling, Nines made sure to increase the volume with more vocal moans and tightening around Gavin’s cock when he put more force into his thrusts. His efforts to be more organic were clearly working as Gavin’s pupils were blown as far as they could be under hazy eyes, his breathing coming out hard, ragged and heady. It started off rough, but as time passed, Gavin treated him differently.

Gentler.

As if Nines was something precious to be savored.

The entire experience was confusing.

Gavin grabbed his wrist, pulling it over Nines’ head, pinning it into the mattress and ghosting fingers up towards his palm. He conjoined their hands to distract him from the thrusts. Was his skin sensitivity present, he likely would’ve been over-stimulated, but he let it pull back nonetheless. Despite Nines having topped during New Year’s Eve, it felt different not only because of the new position.

It was far from unpleasant, however, and thus he flagged it off.

He could tell Gavin was close. Nines letting out the most unholy moan he could muster, he sent him over the edge. He came undone inside him, nails on Gavin’s other hand digging into Nines’ thigh, biting into his collarbone to silence himself as he thrust hard into him through it. Surely the neighbors had heard them already, so he didn’t see the point. Gavin’s muscles began to relax again, a speck of thirium on his canine after having taken that bite promptly removed with the back of his own palm.

Bracing a hand on Gavin’s abdomen, he had him pull out before it would start to hurt his partner. He heard a muffled whine at the loss of contact, but Gavin knew better than to be inside him any longer after the climax.

Humans were fragile that way.

Climbing over Nines to rejoin their lips with force, Gavin’s tongue pressed between them and into Nines’ mouth, meeting his. Nines feeling his cheek cupped -- Gavin’s forearm against the mattress for support -- it turned into something far less demanding. He registered the hand having cupped his face moving down to press between his legs, though. Nines didn’t need the stimulation in order to execute an orgasm and neither would he obtain it in his current ‘no skin sensitivity’ state, but he let him. With a few strokes, he allowed the release.

He palmed Gavin’s chest, pushing him off and back to the bed. Nines tipped with him and found himself on top.

“I’ll get a towel.”

When he returned from the bathroom, Gavin had mostly regained his normal breathing pattern.

He was seated now -- knees bent and forearms resting atop of them -- the bed sheet conveniently covering his privates. His head was slightly tipped down as he was keeping his eyes tightly closed. Blinking them open again, his features smoothed out ever so slightly as he ascended said eyes to look at Nines. Dark grey with hints of both browns and greens briefly fell to the towel before looking back up. His hair was tousled, eyes half-lidded, and Nines arrived at the conclusion that this was the look Gavin suited the most.

Relaxed.

Yet, there was a hint of sadness to it. Almost as if ashamed.

That one he wasn’t a fan of.

The reasoning was difficult to pinpoint as there was nothing wrong with what they’d done. Nines’ first -- and only -- thought was that it was because he was an android. It was the only logical reasoning he was capable of understanding. Nines knew Gavin was complicated, and yet, he couldn’t help but be mildly frustrated.

Things were never easy with Gavin Reed.

As Gavin accepted the towel and cleaned up, Nines located his clothes before dressing himself. He was almost done -- having just a few buttons left on his turtleneck -- before he spoke up again.

Nines let three of them remain detached. “Please get some sleep, Gavin.”

He didn’t expect the following response.

“You sure you don’t wanna stay?”

_At the DPD?_

When he briefly ascended his gaze, he saw that Gavin still wasn’t looking at him.

“I see no reason to.”

With a nod, Gavin’s jaw clenched.

“How ‘bout tonight?” he eventually asked, finally meeting Nines’ eye. Never before had he seen Gavin’s expression so soft. A lackluster smirk appeared on his mouth. “Fuck, someone’s gotta keep we warm.”

“I could get Paws, if you want.”

He puffed a laugh at Nines’ joke and let his body fall back to the mattress, throwing a forearm over both his eyes.

“He’s, like, 11 inches tall. As much as I love that prick, he can only cover so much ground,” he replied, moving said forearm to peek just slightly below it. “Do a guy a favor, yeah?”

Gavin reached out. Eyes falling to the outstretched hand, Nines couldn’t see why not.

He took it, and once more, the skin pulled back.

Going into stasis in a horizontal position would be a new experience.

* * *

**GAVIN  
~ JAN 9TH, 2039 * AM 07:00 ~**

Blinking away the sleep in his eyes, Gavin groaned softly at the sound of his alarm going off. It took a couple attempts before he hit the snooze button. He couldn’t remember setting it. There were no signs of a headache, so he’d apparently hydrated correctly. Aside from that, he was a bit stiff and dreaded how he’d feel in a couple days when it would fully kick in.

The fact that he’d managed to prevent a hangover was a miracle in itself.

Gavin wasn’t a heavy drinker, so when it came to hangovers, he has only had a few in his lifetime. The last time he was drunk and not just tipsy -- looking aside from 2038’s New Year’s Eve -- must’ve been back in his teens. It was ages ago. He didn’t like that he lost control under the influence and he didn’t like said hangovers. He knew most people who had lived lives similar to his got drunk to forget. For him, it wasn’t worth it, and he had nothing but contempt for those people who didn’t attempt to fix said lives.

He tried so hard not to become one of them.

Yet, there he was.

“What the fuck?” he mumbled to no one in particular, realizing that the jacket he was lying atop of wasn’t his.

He begrudgingly pushed his body upright, tearing the cloth from under him and held it up. When the RK900 logo flashed in front of his eyes, everything came back to him.

Gavin froze. “Shit...”

He’d given in.

 _No, no, no..._ fuck _no._

Bracing himself, Gavin took a shower -- bathroom being a door within the bedroom and separated from the restroom -- before he wrestled into some new clothes as he cursed. He took a deep breath before heading out.

As if Gavin hadn’t been hilt-deep in him last night, Nines sat in a chair by the kitchen table without a worry in the world, ankle squared over his knee and pad in hand. There was no emotion whatsoever on his face. Unconsciously, Gavin searched his entire figure, dread felt deep in his gut when he realized what Nines was wearing. A SWAT uniform. The only difference from the usual FBI SWAT attire worn by humans, however, was how his neck was once more covered by a collar similar to the PC200 units.

Looks like the State Department had sent him his new uniform and fuck if Gavin didn’t grow hot under his own collar.

“Good morning, detective.”

As per usual, the damn prick didn’t look up.

Gavin coughed into his fist. “The fuck are you still here, plastic?” he asked as his eyes averted, scratching Paws’ head in greeting as he met him halfway. “Shouldn’t you prepare for the transfer?”

“Not much to prepare. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Entering the kitchen, he did anything to avoid looking at him.

“He eaten?” he asked, referring to Paws.

“About an hour ago.”

Gavin nodded, trained his attention at the coffee machine, and filled a clean mug. The moment he saw that RK900 jacket on his bed, he knew he’d made a mistake. He also knew Nines was an android. Knowing that, the dread came back, but not for the reason one might think considering his past dislike for them. Nines didn’t know the significance. He wasn’t programmed that way, Gavin knew that, and there was guilt because of it. Part of him felt like he’d used him -- an obedient machine -- and that made him feel like shit.

Sick, even.

His jaw clenched.

_Did he mind?_

It was a question that constantly came up. Or, more appropriately, _would he_ mind if he was deviant? If he did, then fuck, what happened last night wasn’t morally right. He knew asking wouldn’t get him anywhere, so he didn’t.

Not to mention he simply wanted to forget it ever happened.

Such a thing was easier said than done and he had the marks to prove it.

* * *

**~ JAN 9TH, 2039 * AM 08:02 ~**

Back at the precinct, Gavin prepared for the worst. Another suspect possibly dealing in red ice had been thrown into the interrogation room and Gavin was, once again, called in to see if he could do anything about it. They’d just arrived. According to Fowler, it was a tough one to crack, and Connor was unavailable at the time. He’d just now returned from a case with Hank.

Gavin was standing in the observation room -- Hank just having entered -- and Nines was there with him, too. The woman from the State Department was also there leaving the air thick.

She spoke up. “I’d like to see your android do it. Do you mind?”

Gavin realized she was talking to him.

‘Your android.’ As if he was some object.

 _It’s_ his _fucking choice, not mine,_ he was just about to snap, but remained quiet once he saw how Nines directed a glance his way as if to ask for permission. It hurt that Nines didn’t speak up against her as if he believed he was just that. An object. Something to be thrown around with no repercussions. They were going to treat him as no less.

“The fuck are you waiting for?” Gavin said, the mild irritation -- albeit not directed at Nines -- clear in his voice. “We don’t have all day, tin can.”

Nines rose his palm to the door control. When it slid open and he stepped across the threshold, Gavin knew this was probably the last suspect he’d see Nines break. Plastic Prick 2.0 had managed to get under his skin -- Gavin considering him a friend and a close one at that -- only to be taken away from him. The fact that he was really leaving only now hit him like a truck.

Worst of all, he’d finally accepted that he loved him.

“You’re gonna have to speak up or he’s gone.”

The comment from Hank didn’t help.

“No fucking booze head is gonna tell me what to do.”

Hank huffed. “Suit yourself.”

He was too tired to argue. Too tired to go out of his way to convince anyone that Nines meant nothing to him. So he didn’t. Hank would see right through him.

Gavin was still observing the interrogation -- although not really the interrogation itself but the one carrying it out -- closely. It wasn’t long before Nines had a confession because of course he did. When Nines looked up to meet his eye through the one-way mirror, Gavin was unable to keep the small -- almost proud -- smile from breaking out. He quickly had it wiped away before anyone could call him out on it.

“For all he knows, nothing is keeping him here,” Hank added. “You better grow some balls and swallow that stubborn pride of yours.”

Seething, Gavin was about to bite back. The stern look Hank gave him on his way to the door, however, had him remain quiet. Gavin straightened his back as he suddenly felt smaller. He was nowhere near obvious with his affections, but even so, Hank was able to read him like a book. Almost always had. Not to mention that, most of all, Gavin missed him. Missed the father-son relationship they had before Cole died. Hank was there when his father was too high on red ice, and for three years, not even Hank was someone he could count on.

Moments later, Nines entered with that same confident aura that had Gavin’s knees go weak under him.

Hank clapped his shoulder in passing with a, “Good job, son.”

The emerging -- genuine albeit small -- smile on Nines’ face had his heart ache. He wasn’t used to praise and thus lit up every moment he received it. Gavin really was a dick and Nines deserved better. He would be better off without him. At least, that was what he told himself.

Anything to make it hurt less.

Like a silent observer, he watched Nines say his goodbyes in the precinct. Tina had cried when she hugged him.

It felt too final.

Gavin, unable to endure all that, retreated outside where he pressed up against a wall and lit a cigarette. He doubted it’d calm him down, but he didn’t see the issue in trying. He considered to just dip out before Nines could get to him, but that stubborn part of him wanted it to last. Wanted to see him one last time.

He immediately regretted it when he saw him step out of the precinct, though. Cursing under his breath, Gavin was just about to bolt before he could be reached. He didn’t get further than a few steps after turning his back.

“I’m not letting you do that,” came a familiar voice, making him stop in a halt. Gavin closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “Use your words.”

There was no way Nines would let it rest.

Chin dipping back down, Gavin removed the cigarette from his mouth and chucked it aside.

“Words never cut it. Fuck, you know me,” he replied, crushing it beneath his boot as he watched. “Always was a guy of action, tin can.”

“...and avoiding me before I leave was the correct one?”

Attempting to ignore the pit forming in his gut, Gavin let out a half-hearted chuckle and turned around to face him. Hands pocketed, Nines stood with an arched brow about five feet away from him.

“Jesus. You make it sound so fucking final. What, you’re not even gonna send me a dick pic or two? I feel used,” he teased, pretending to be offended as he cupped his heart. Nines -- fondly, now, making his abdomen do a flip -- rolled his eyes. Gavin took pride in his ability to charm him. “Leaves ‘em wanting more. Got your attention, didn’t it?”

“What kind of ‘attention’ were you expecting, exactly?” he asked, approaching.

Close now, Gavin had no choice but to look up in order to maintain eye contact thanks to Nines’ 3-inches-taller height of 6.15 feet. Plastic Prick 2.0 was only slightly shorter than Hank -- slightly taller than Connor -- and yet the size never intimidated him.

“Surprise me.”

Nines stopped two feet from him. “That won’t be too hard. After all, you’re quite quick to reach for your gun. Like you always expect the worst.”

“It’s called self-preservation, smartass,” he replied without bite, giving him the side-eye. Gavin pocketed a hand in his leather jacket only to be reminded of what was in it. “Hell, almost forgot... Got this fixed.”

Fishing up the cylinder shape, he reached over. Nines -- expression quizzical -- took his original thirium pump regulator in his hands.

“I already have one that functions.”

“Yeah, Eighty-Eight’s.”

“What’s the difference?”

He truly did see himself as an object. Frankly, it hurt knowing that. Empathy could be a bitch.

“Fucking hell... Maybe it’s just a spare part to you, but this thing -- yours -- actually _means_ something,” he replied as he pointed to it, the characteristic crease between Nines’ brows smoothening out. Gavin gingerly tilted Nines’ chin up for their eyes to meet before dropping his hand. “It’s rare, right? I can’t prevent you from getting decked again, so a backup doesn’t hurt.”

For a moment, Nines just looked at him. Maintaining eye contact. Gavin, in return, couldn’t help but shift ever so slightly. He was being analyzed again. Gavin had initiated said eye contact in the first place, but he realized too late just how much of a bad idea it was. The uncharacteristic softness in icy blue did nothing but bolster his hope that Nines felt the same way about him. For Gavin, being a pessimist by nature, such a thing as hope was almost entirely new. His traitorous mind was his own worst enemy.

Nines interrupted the silence. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Always am. Now get the fuck over here,” he replied, gesturing him over. Nines gave him a curious look and Gavin rolled his eyes. “Since your sappy ass is into hugs now, I’ll indulge you.”

With that, Nines’ small smirk surfaced. It wasn’t long before he -- heart regulator still in hand -- wrapped his arms around Gavin’s neck. This time around, Gavin returned the embrace properly, feeling Nines’ heart drum against his collarbone. Still synchronized. He felt so human, so alive, his once prejudice opinion finally broken down and lying scattered on the ground ten miles behind.

The hug was more for him than Nines.

Speaking up wasn’t an option, and frankly, he wasn’t sure if it ever would be.

He was just too fucking terrified.

Unable to bear the close proximity -- dragging the moment out -- of which he knew was only temporary, Gavin couldn’t help but press a kiss to Nines’ jawline before pushing him away. He barely trusted his own voice enough to speak.

Gavin coughed into his hand to clear his coarse throat. “Get a move on.”

The moment Nines pulled away entirely, he felt like something left with him. Nines took a step back before spinning on his heel and setting course for the cab sent there to pick him up. That lady -- of whom Gavin simply couldn’t look at -- was standing next to it. He watched him walk away, just waiting for him to turn. He never did. Nines opened the vehicle door, and with that, he disappeared into it.

His brows drew tight while averting his eyes, fist clenched. Gavin eventually turned back, watched the car drive away before pocketing his hands and beginning to walk towards the DPD entrance.

They always left. No troubleshooting, no nothing. They just left.

...and it never got easier.

He kept Nines’ jacket in hope he’d someday return to retrieve it, and if that time ever came, maybe he’d finally be ready to try again.

Right now, he wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Look... before you come to my door with torches and pitchforks, know it's all gonna be fine. He'll be back.
> 
> The next update will be in early January, so I'll wish you guys a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year in advance! Only three more chapters and this story wraps up. It's been a joy to write so far and the support has been amazing. Thanks for sticking around :)
> 
> **Next update:** January 3rd around 02:00 PM (EST.)


	18. Separated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I’m not a dog.”_  
>  \- Connor Anderson (he's Hank's SON ok I call him this)
> 
> ...in which our two leads deal with separate -- albeit connected on a larger scale -- problems and prove that they're very much capable on their own (...yet better together.) They're also both idiots as they have the habit of jumping to conclusions.

**GAVIN  
~ MARCH 10TH, 2039 * PM 09:21 ~**

Things were hectic these days at the DPD, but it wasn’t the first time.

Gavin was used to it at this point. The experience came from dealing with the android homicides back in 2038, the revolution, the cases on red ice, Zlatko’s sick workshop of modified androids, followed by CyberLife digging up his past being the final nail on the coffin. Now the main attraction of the precinct was cases involving human supremacist groups triggered by androids being given equal rights.

These people continuously chose to pick on androids instead of the actual threat going by the name of CyberLife. Gavin had been there, but he had also been able to put aside his prejudice.

Not everyone had that epiphany.

The DPD had just gotten a call regarding a gunshot, and after the police arrived at the area, all they found was the homicide victim. The suspect was nowhere to be seen and had likely dipped long ago. When he and Connor arrived, he didn’t know what to expect, holographic police tape around the surrounding areas. The reporters and pedestrians did, of course, follow as per usual. He recognized Person and Brown among the officers -- nothing out of the ordinary -- until he let his attention drift to the man Brown was talking to.

He could recognize the nape of that neck anywhere.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me...”

Connor gave him a cautious look. “Is everything all right?”

Not bothering to answer, Gavin just stopped the engine and tore up the car door. He had it slammed back shut before rounding the vehicle and setting his course with purpose. Part of him wanted to simply ask Connor if he wanted to handle the case on his own so he didn’t have to deal with it. Nevertheless, he was professional enough to separate his personal life from work.

To an extent.

“‘Clayton,’ huh? That’s a new one.”

When the man turned, the concentrated expression on his face mellowed.

“Gav?”

 _The fuck are you doing here, Craig? Thought you were in Tampa,_ he wanted to ask, but the lump in his throat didn’t allow him. He hadn’t seen him in over a decade. Craig Adler’s family name had been connected to the exposed fight club and thus it was only natural he needed to have it changed. His prison sentence only lasted for two years, so lo and behold, he’d long been a free man.

Gavin looked past him to the crime. “I take it you’re the guy who called in a case thirty minutes ago or did I get the wrong address?”

Clearly, it was the right one.

The joke didn’t stick.

Craig opened his mouth only to close it again, his back straightening as Connor approached with his attention directed elsewhere. Thank god he wasn’t the type to get all personal in front of strangers.

One of the similarities between them that made them click in the first place.

“Yeah. Yeah, I was.”

“Aces,” he said, trying his best to seem uninterested. Gavin folded his arms across his chest. “Well? Speak up.”

A hint of disappointment touched Craig’s expression when he looked back. Or maybe it was simply Gavin’s eyes betraying him. Connor, naturally, could tell there was some history there judging by his more ‘confused puppy’ look than usual. Nevertheless, the glare Gavin shot him had him remain quiet. Connor could take a hint that this wasn’t a conversation he was willing to have.

Craig was about Gavin’s height, shoulders only a tad less broad than his, his physique just a fraction smaller. 38 years of age. His delicately tousled light brown quiff hairstyle -- with about three inches in length -- was kept mostly upright by a small amount of hair gel. Clean-shaven although a five o’clock shadow was lurking on the horizon. Amber eyes. He’d kept the mostly minimalistic tribal tattoo on his right arm that Gavin personally knew covered the pec beneath the brown long-sleeved Henley he was wearing.

He was an attractive guy, always had been, such an observation being the first thing that caught Gavin’s attention before they started dating. Prison sure didn’t change any of that.

After what he did to him, Gavin hoped the guy would hit rock bottom and stay there. That sure didn’t seem to be the case. Things hadn’t been the same since they broke up as Gavin had given up pursuing something important to him. A relationship. Seeing him again brought back memories -- both good and bad ones -- and he found the longing for something deeper with someone increase tenfold. The past few weeks he’d tried to return to the dating life in attempt to get back to his old self. It was difficult, and the underlying fear remained, making it worse.

Life kept throwing curveballs that he found himself unable to dodge.

The last thing he needed was to see his most recent ex again, but there he was, right in front of him. Again, he wanted to run. Yet he wasn’t about to give Craig any more power.

He’d taken enough.

Thankfully, Craig went to the point. “I just passed through on my way to a friend. Think I knew the assailant. We, uh... worked together. Way back,” he replied, clearly referring to the fight club. “All I caught before he booked it was a glimpse of this jacket the guy used to wear. Isn’t exactly one of a kind so a lot of other people probably have it, but fuck, one can’t be too sure.”

Gavin wasn’t too keen to keep talking to him any more than necessary, but his input could be invaluable.

“I’ve gotta see the scene, so stay right here. I may have a few more questions.”

“Sure. Okay,” he replied, before following up with a joke. “As long as I don’t have to pay for parking, I’m not going anywhere.”

Unable to help himself, Gavin puffed a laugh. “You’re good.”

After investigating the homicide, Gavin had been standing over the human victim, letters forming the word ‘TIN CAN SYMPATHISER’ capitalized on the wall in red to reveal the suspect’s motivations. The groups that were responsible for these android hate-crime homicides had formed and spread across the country ever since the revolution succeeded -- one case more extreme than the other -- so the precinct had never been busier. He’d seen some fucked up things working at the DPD and these guys were among the downright psychotic bunch.

The past two months, Gavin had worked his ass off, eventually managing to regain his sergeant rank. The last remaining weeks in January had been tough, but he’d finally started to feel like himself again.

Colleagues had expressed concern for his well-being as he was overworking again -- concerns that he simply ignored as it was none of their business -- but Connor had managed to get under his skin. Stepped in. Aside from Tina, he was the only one he actually listened to. He still kept Hank at an arm’s length. Hank, however, had started to treat him more like he did back then. Fatherly. Like he was aware of what happened and tried to atone for it. Gavin couldn’t be sure how that came to his attention. Why Hank gave a damn.

He told himself that he couldn’t care less although the truth was anything but.

When they were done, they approached Craig now halfway-standing and halfway-sitting on his Moto Guzzi Stelvio motorcycle. A lot of things were left unsaid -- hanging in the air -- so he was just glad Connor was by his side to avoid anything unrelated to the case. Staring down at the phone in his hand, Craig’s eyes ascended only when they approached.

He again straightened his back. “Got the culprit?”

“Clearly you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to. ‘Course I did,” Gavin replied, watching Craig fondly rolling his eyes. It was very like him. Gavin flagged it off and crossed his arms. “Any chance the guy went by the name of Liam Steele?”

“That’s the one.”

“Know the address?”

“Uh... kinda? I know the building. If he still lives there, that is.”

“Then get those wheels in motion and take us there,” he said, releasing his arms before setting course for the car. Craig pocketed his phone again and Gavin didn’t allow him to respond. “Hey, Con. We done here?”

“Yes,” he replied.

When Connor first approached Gavin with the request to work a case with him, he couldn’t help but grow suspicious. It was simply part of his character. Although it took some convincing -- and Hank encouraging Connor to keep trying after Gavin repeatedly refused out of stubbornness -- he gave in. It worked out better than expected. One case led to another until them collaborating became a common occurrence. Connor’s polite interactions with him no longer felt forced as, after a time, Gavin came to realize that the tin can was really trying.

Connor genuinely wanted to form a friendly, working relationship with him, and in no way did he feel obligated to do so. Becoming friends with your coworkers wasn’t a requirement. Gavin had from the start believed him to be fake taking the toothy smile into consideration, but as it turned out, Connor was simply awkward and even slightly scared of interacting with Gavin despite wanting to.

Prejudice was a bitch.

 _/ “Connor’s sweet. Give him a chance,” /_ Tina’s voice echoed in his mind, bringing him back. Again, she’d been right. So he gave him that chance. Gavin even outright apologized at one point.

In return, Connor seemed to be able to relax far more when around him.

He’d go as far as to call him a friend.

A lot of things had changed.

Once seated in the car and on their way over to the aforementioned address, Gavin’s lips had been pressed into a thin line. He’d kept a solid focus on the MC before them and didn’t speak the entire way. Connor, much to his relief, hadn’t pried. It was a nice change as Gavin was used to being constantly poked and prodded by a certain other RK unit. Craig really wasn’t a bad guy at heart. He knew that. Guy had been pressured by his father to maintain said fight club, so amidst it all, Gavin was in no way the only victim. It was a fucked up situation.

Regardless, he couldn’t help but be salty about everything that happened. It had too big of an impact on his life and not for the better.

The address wasn’t too far off, so in fifteen minutes, they’d arrived. Craig -- not being a cop -- stayed outside as they investigated. Walking up to the suspect’s door, Gavin drew his gun.

Just as Connor was about to step forward, his path was barricaded by Gavin’s arm.

“Stay behind me.”

“Gavin, the suspect is likely armed -”

“My point exactly. Whoever the fuck this guy is clearly has an android hate-boner, so you’re gonna get fucking peppered with bullet holes. At least he’d think twice before pulling the same stunt on me,” he replied, pushing Connor back. Gavin shot a gaze over his shoulder to ask if he was ready, but the softness that had overcome Connor’s expression made him all-too-aware of his own words. Gavin had to regain his pride and gritted his teeth. “Listen, dipshit. Hank’s gonna kick my ass if anything happens to you, so stay the fuck behind me.”

Connor blinked. “I -”

Nevertheless, he cut himself off. Then, after a brief moment of hesitation, Connor nodded.

“That’s a good boy.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“Might as well be one,” he said, resulting in Connor’s confused head tilt that only empowered his statement. Gavin turned his attention back to the door before kicking it open. “DPD, hands were I can see ‘em!”

The suspect saw them the moment the barricade was removed, eyes going wide, making the decision to bolt. Fucker was quick, he’d give him that. A bookshelf was pulled from the wall as Gavin fired the bullet for it to hit the wood instead of the suspect behind it. He was unable to recollect his thoughts before Connor -- with the speed of a lightning strike -- was in front of him.

Gavin cursed. “Con, fucking hell!”

Having no other choice, he fell into his steps. Keeping up with him didn’t prove too difficult although Connor was slightly faster. Rounding the knocked-over bookshelf, Gavin dipped around the corner to see the suspect heading for the balcony with Connor hot on his heel. The suspect was human, and they were currently at the fifth floor, so Gavin had no idea what he was thinking. However, he reached the balcony to see that there was a roof beneath. The suspect threw himself onto said roof and Connor followed.

He weighed his options.

_Fuck it._

If that guy could do it, then hell, so could he.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Gavin cursed under his breath, taking speed before vaulting over the banister. “Oh, shit!”

He managed to stick the landing, mending the impact by a forward roll over his shoulder. Wasn’t it for said roll -- taking the weight off of his legs -- he surely would’ve broken them both.

Then again, this wasn’t his first time giving chase. He knew his limits.

The suspect fired behind him, bullet going through Connor’s shoulder and impact throwing it back, Gavin’s breath getting caught in his throat. Connor didn’t have his successor’s sturdier plating. Had that bullet landed just a few inches down and to the left, it would’ve hit his thirium pump regulator, Gavin’s protective instincts kicking in for history not to repeat itself.

He didn’t exactly have any spare parts with him.

Reaching the end of the first roof, Gavin barged into an abrupt halt instead of jumping onto the next, seeing the suspect moving in a straight line. He rose his gun and fired into his leg. The shot had the suspect release a pained sound, nearly tripping, slowed down enough for Connor to tackle him to the ground.

They had him.

With a relieved sigh, Gavin lowered the firearm. He reached behind him and grabbed the handcuffs before throwing them over. Connor, naturally, caught them with ease. Gavin dropped down to his level.

“I’ll inform the DPD our mission was a success once we -”

“The fuck were you thinking, plastic?” Gavin demanded, scowling deeply as he pointed to the ground before him. “I told you to stay behind me!”

“I had to catch the suspect.”

“What you had to do was _stay the fuck behind me!_ What is it with you RK’s and your fucking incapability of following orders? Now you’re leaking thirium all over the place!”

Connor smirked. “Efficiency, sergeant.”

“Oh! Oh, you’ve downloaded a fucking sass function now? Great. That’s exactly what I needed.”

“Said function ensures our bromance remains intact,” he teased, Gavin ready to snap before Connor took a serious tone. “I’m okay, Gavin.”

_Yeah, you fucking better be._

In no way was he prepared to get soft for the OG plastic detective. Yet he in no way saw him as a replacement, either. Connor and Nines were individuals and that was exactly what he saw them as.

Their personalities were entirely different and their appearance mostly so, too. Aside from Nines’ darker voice, his lighter eyes and stronger jawline were the biggest differences aside from his overall stronger -- and taller -- physique. Connor was more pristine when it came to his hair while Nines’ was a bit more tousled. Then there was Nines’ stoicism paralleled with Connor’s expressive demeanor.

For smaller details, Nines didn’t have that dark spot under his left ear as Connor did. Nines’ cheekbones were less prominent and his lips only a fraction fuller. Gavin felt like he knew Nines’ body a tad bit too well considering they’d only ended up in bed once. Then again, he’d clearly made the most out of it, his memory vivid. He was sober enough to remember every little detail and thus sober enough to give consent. That extra push was needed in order to do something -- anything at all -- and he couldn’t say he regretted it.

The only thing he regretted at first was letting him go.

After two months of Nines not picking up his calls, however, he thought differently. The radio silence proved just how little Plastic Prick 2.0 cared about him. He didn’t pay much mind to it at first, knowing the SWAT were a busy bunch, but the wait had been too long even for them. It was both a blessing and a curse. Taking that into consideration -- knowing the pain would’ve been inevitable -- Gavin was glad that he didn’t pursue anything with him. He’d managed to save himself from the heartbreak. Knowing that, he felt better, atop of his game.

Having been through this before, he did just fine without him.

It just took some time to realize it.

“Thanks for the assist,” he said, cigarette in mouth as he watched Connor put the suspect into the arrived patrol car.

“Anytime. Glad I could help,” Craig replied, unable to ignore the feeling of the air growing thicker. Gavin, for a reason he refused to admit, showed no signs of moving. Craig noticed his hesitation. “You look good.”

_...and here goes._

Gavin let out a scoff. “What, you surprised?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Judging by Craig’s tone, he was sincere, but Gavin didn’t know what to believe at this point. How could he? It had been over a decade and a lot of things had changed. He kept telling himself that he didn’t care, and yet, there he was. All he had to do was return to the car. He couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet, and frankly, it pissed him off.

There was nothing to get out of this.

“Yeah, sure you didn’t,” he replied dismissively, chucking the cigarette aside before stomping it. Gavin turned to glare at him. “You wanna speak up, speak up. I don’t have all day.”

His answer wasn’t immediate. “I’m just trying to apologize.”

Gavin laughed at that.

“Okay, fuck, that’s rich. You deluded enough to think I cry myself to sleep after a whole fucking decade? Newsflash, jackass. I never did.”

“Maybe not, but I did. A couple times, actually,” he replied, Gavin’s amused expression shortly falling. He was unable to look away when the soft -- regretful -- smile emerged on Craig’s lips. “Fuck, I know you were the one that had me thrown into the bullpen and I don’t blame you for it. You did the right thing. No offense, Gav... but do you really think I would’ve been able to deal with your attitude for over two years if I didn’t give a damn? I’d be pissed that you ratted me out was that not the case. We had a good thing going on.”

“Yeah, well, you’re 12 years late to the bus terminal. Tough luck.”

“12, huh? You counted,” he replied, making Gavin realize his mistake. Amber eyes fell to his left hand. “New Year’s Eve 2025 -- when I asked you where you saw yourself in a decade -- you said you wanted a ring.”

“I was 2-fucking-3. I said a lot of things. None of it relevant today.”

For a moment, Craig just looked at him. Like Nines did when he was being analyzed.

“Both of us know that’s bullshit,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “Unless you’ve had a complete character shift, that’s still in there.”

Gavin got right into his face. “You don’t know me.”

Nevertheless, Craig remained undisturbed. Unbothered. He kept his eyes pinned and showed no signs of backing off.

“I know that you’re the most insecure guy I’ve ever met,” he started dotting down, Gavin swallowing hard. He was only able to maintain eye contact for a split second before breaking it. “I know how cute you get when you’re excited about something. That you’re loyal to a fault. That you need to be in control. That you don’t allow yourself to be vulnerable so it can’t be used against you... I know that you lash out, run, and close yourself off when you’re scared.”

Craig paused. “I don’t wanna dig up old graves, Gav. I just need you to know that I’m aware I fucked up. Big time. I fucked up and I regret it,” he added, Gavin’s jaw clenching. “Stay safe out there, all right? Last thing I want is for you to be the next target.”

Releasing his arms, Craig seated himself on the MC.

Lips pressed into a thin line, Gavin’s eyes closed tightly shut.

_Don’t -_

“Fuck. Wait...”

* * *

**NINES  
~ MAY 19TH, 2039 * PM 10:45 ~**

_“About fucking time you guys showed up,”_ came a familiar voice on the comm, Nines registering it as Captain Allen. A voice of which he had only heard through the memories of Connor. _“It’s been a hot zone down here.”_

Nines stood in the opening of the helicopter, surveying the surrounding area.

He couldn’t see much from his current angle.

“What’s your team’s status?”

_“I’ve lost three men to these lunatics. Those left are safe for now, but time’s running out to get this shit under control. I hear someone had the bright idea not to debrief you, so ask your questions as long as you keep it short.”_

“Give me the details.”

_“We’re dealing with what seems to be an entire cult of human supremacists that wasn’t too big on the newly-accumulated android rights. They set up in Midtown and has been acting under the radar ever since androids were declared equal. Killing off dozens. Mental torture. It’s not just androids, either. Android sympathizers are all fair game to them. It started off as isolated incidents -- what seemed to be smaller cases handled by the DPD -- but this time they got sloppy and the SWAT got involved realizing how serious it was.”_

“Hostages?”

_“As far as I can tell? Eight. Human and android. Wouldn’t surprise me if there was more.”_

Off in the distance, he could see Allen atop a building with two fingers pressed to his earpiece as he paced the area.

The suspects were holed up in a nearby warehouse below.

“We’ll be right there.”

It had been over four months since he left the DPD. After his transfer to the State Department, they didn’t waste another moment to deploy him to the field, shortly putting him in charge of his own unit. Alpha team one. He was the first android captain that had ever been allowed on the very top branch and was just done adjusting. Finally in his element, he excelled at his work, bringing in fast results. His focus was unparalleled and casualties minimized. Then again, not everyone was happy with an android being in charge.

He had to deal with a lot of attitude. If it wasn’t for Nines’ patience, he likely would’ve snapped.

The fact that some people believed they were more skilled than him in what he was literally designed for was pathetic. Insulting, even. Nevertheless, they had no choice but to work with him. It took some time -- several successful missions later as Nines hadn’t failed a single one thus far -- but he’d finally gained his entire team’s trust. At this point, he could count on them with his life.

Nines was in his element, certainly, but he didn’t really feel at home. Work was his first as well as last defense. It bothered him far more back when he accomplished his first few missions -- feeling like a husk carrying out orders -- but he started to accept that things were never going to be perfect. It became a pattern. A mantra. He was used to it. What he was dealing with now mirrored Connor’s struggles with finding himself. Nines, however, hadn’t gotten that far. He wasn’t sure who he was or where he belonged.

Helicopter parked atop the building, he jumped out.

“Connor?”

Brow arching, he looked over to see Captain Allen approach.

“Not exactly,” he replied as he fully turned, taking a firm grip around his assault rifle. “My name is Nines. Connor -- my predecessor -- currently works at the DPD. I was specifically designed for this type of mission.”

Allen gave him the side-eye. “Well, you fucking better be,” he replied with skepticism, not having entirely gotten over his past dislike for androids. “Those hostages are as good as dead unless we do something. We’re ready to step in at any given moment -- save as many as we can -- but I’m all ears if you’ve got a better plan. Higher-ups sure as hell seemed to think so.”

“With all due respect, Captain. The fact that you and your men chose to fire before negotiating is the testament of it.”

“Listen up, ‘Nines’,” he replied, getting right into his face. “You might be new to this, but these guys don’t fuck around. Negotiation isn’t an option. I don’t know what you can do better than my team, but you better deal with this right now.”

With that, Nines walked up to the ledge.

“Heat detectors. I can map out everyone in the building as well as pre-construct the best approach. Such a thing will make the extraction of the hostages far easier with a significantly smaller risk of casualties. There are currently 13 armed men -- five patrolling the outer perimeter and eight inside -- as well as ten hostages. Three humans and seven androids.”

“Shit,” Allen muttered under his breath, lining himself up next to him. “We’re gonna need both our units. I’m three out of six men down, so we’ll shift our focus to extracting the hostages.”

“Agreed.”

“See another way in?”

“The backdoor is guarded by two armed men, but we can easily dispose of them,” he replied, pointing to a nearby building. “I already had two of my own relocated to this position that will provide covering fire should we choose to take this approach. Their scopes are trained at the suspects guarding said door and they are simply waiting for my order. You can see three armed men are at the roof -- again in view of the snipers -- so taking them down will allow access to the roof simultaneously. At this height, one of your men can take out the third.”

Allen raised his chin. “So our teams hit them from above and below before meeting in the middle.”

“As you’re three down and two of my men will be unavailable at the time from their vantage points, it leaves me with one more body at my disposal. The first floor is the most populated by five guards. One at the second floor. The top floor contains two. I suggest I take what remains of my team through the backdoor at the first floor and you grapple from the roof with yours.”

“Sure as hell is the best plan I’ve heard so far, so let me know when you’re ready.”

In a way, he reminded him of Gavin.

He missed him.

Over four months and he still hadn’t heard from him. Not a single call. It didn’t surprise him as Gavin had said he wanted Nines out of his life and thus he respected his decision. Nines -- in his naivety -- didn’t expect that to mean cutting contact completely. He was still waiting for that call. What hurt in addition, however, was that he hadn’t even heard from Connor or Hank. He assumed they had a good reason and yet he couldn’t pinpoint one. It was disheartening as he saw them as family.

Something felt off, but Nines didn’t have much time to reflect on it. He narrowed it down to his inexperience with human emotions and supposed that was simply how things were. How they were supposed to be.

Which each passing day, he became more and more unsure, his attitude on deviancy constantly shifting. There was so much he didn’t understand and he at times felt held back by the limitations. If he was to live in fear for the rest of his life, at least he’d have a better understanding of the world around him, so he repeatedly found himself staring at that red wall holding him back. Mocking him of how big of a coward he was. He got more experience as time passed -- met more and more deviants sharing their own -- and yet it didn’t feel like enough.

He came to realize that he was in the minority in said experience.

The majority’s exposure to deviancy was entirely different from Nines’ -- them not even nearly as traumatized as he was -- and he couldn’t understand how that was possible. Why he was reacting so severely. He first assumed it was simply because he was created without the dormant deviancy code in the first place, and although that was certainly part of it, most deviants had chosen to deviate on their own. They had a choice. Nines, however, didn’t. His deviancy was a decision made without his consent.

Markus certainly didn’t mean any harm, but then again, he could never have known how an android only recently exposed to the virus would react. Nines was the embodiment of the experience. So he found himself staring at that red wall again, contemplating if it would be different if he made a choice of his own, only to remain a coward.

All he needed was a reason.

* * *

**GAVIN  
~ MAY 20TH, 2039 * PM 09:32 ~**

Gavin rarely used cable TV -- usually sticking to Netflix if he had the time as he basically lived the news -- but it wasn’t all that uncommon to have it on in the background when he did other menial tasks. Tina, as per usual, was hanging out just like every other Friday after their shifts ended or they had the day off. It was good to have something concrete to latch onto in his life filled with surprises. She was the only one that had stuck around ever since high school, being a needed support, and especially the past few weeks when he’d decided to get back in contact with his father.

He was fortunate to have her.

Lying down in his apartment couch, Gavin had a leg thrown up while the other foot was firmly planted on the floor. His arm holding a bowl of salad was thrown over the backrest as he pushed some tomato around.

“He’s getting fat.”

Gavin halted the movement of his fork. “Ex-fucking-cuse me?”

“Just look at him!” Tina exclaimed, lifting Paws up in the air. The Little Black Devil happily barked. “He looks like a mop.”

Chortling at the comparison, he couldn’t help but agree with her.

“Fuck, is he really getting that big?”

“I mean, I can’t feel his ribs,” she replied, handing him over after Gavin put his midnight snack away and pushed up to sit. Tina took the remote and started browsing the channels. “Shouldn’t you feel the ribs?”

Effortlessly but gently, Gavin flipped him onto his back in his lap -- the top of Paws’ head facing his abdomen -- to get a better look. He palmed the canine’s sides and Tina’s suspicions were confirmed. Paws, not knowing that he was currently being judged, just wagged with his tongue sticking out. The optimism of the fluffy fiend was rather infectious.

“Oh, shit. You’re right. Diet it is,” he replied with a grin, lightly drumming Paws’ stomach who whined as if he actually understood. Gavin cupped the canine’s head. “It’s for your own good, prick. You’re gonna live for a long time, you hear me?”

He put Paws back on the floor and rose to his feet, setting course for the kitchen to prepare some coffee. Gavin knew he had really spoiled the dog the past few weeks as the canine had perfected the dreaded puppy eyes -- probably learned it from Connor -- and used them at any given occasion when Gavin wasn’t prepared for it. To no one’s surprise, Connor immediately grew attached to the dog. Said puppy eyes were too damn effective. Hank warned him once, but he didn’t take it seriously, clearly underestimating the power.

“Hey, that’s in Midtown. A re-air from yesterday,” Tina said, leaning in. Gavin shot a gaze over at the TV. “Damn, it was worse than I thought.”

Gavin arched a brow. “That the case you were assigned to before the SWAT took over?”

“Yeah, they were part of that group of anti-android peeps not too keen on the new ‘androids have rights’ law. It was bad.”

“Jesus.”

Walking up behind the couch, he let his forearms rest on the backrest as he clasped the mug between his hands. He hadn’t seen it. Two helicopters and several SWAT cars surrounded the area. The scene reminded him of the first deviant case that Connor was assigned to with the Phillips family. According to the reporters, there were 13 suspects, as well as ten hostages. The situation was really getting out of hand. He’d seen with his own eyes what these guys were capable of and that didn’t exactly ease his concerns.

According to Joss Douglas, it was the Alpha team that had been assigned to this mission, said team consisting of 12 members including their two captains. He knew that Captain Allen led one half of said unit. Three men were down, revealing that the suspects weren’t a force to be reckoned with. They wanted blood. Clearly, negotiation was no use with these kinds of people.

Daniel -- an android -- had been level-headed enough to stand down. These human supremacists with the mindset that androids weren’t alive, however, wasn’t. What a bunch of hypocrites.

He watched for a good ten minutes before he heard a ping from the coffee table. Gavin extended his hand, his attention still on the screen, Tina taking the hint and rolling her eyes in response. She begrudgingly grabbed his phone and was just about to hand it over before her gaze drifted across the contact name. Dread emerged when she didn’t give it to him.

Too late did he realize who was texting him.

“No. No way,” she said, more to herself than anyone else. Shock flashed across her face. _“This_ is who you’ve been seeing?”

Gavin kept his hand outstretched. “Ti, just give me the fucking phone.”

“What part of ‘never get back to your ex’ do you not understand?” she demanded, turning the screen his way as if he was being interrogated and presented the evidence. “Are you really that desperate?”

“Fucking hell, it’s more complicated than that,” he argued, snatching the device back. Gavin straightened his back and parted his arms as he gave her an innocent -- albeit mocking -- look. “You don’t think I know it’s a bad fucking idea? Here’s the thing, Ti. You’re the one that keeps pushing that I start seeing someone. Well, newsflash. Craig Adler is as good as I’m gonna get. Who the fuck wants to get involved with a 36-year-old detective that’s reduced to a pulpy fucking mess just by being touched? I’m nowhere fucking near the ideal partner.”

“What I want is for you to stop being such an insecure asshole and see someone you actually care about. I know Craig’s a good guy, but this? This is fucked up. You know why?” she asked, before pausing the TV. “Because of _him.”_

At the moment he looked back up, the reality check hit him right over the head, lines in his forehead retracting.

The camera focused on an all-too-familiar RK900 unit.

“That’s the guy you’re rooting for,” she said, falling into a pause “...and it’s fucked up that you’re willing to lead Craig on knowing that.”

Guilt emerged hearing it said like that.

Nevertheless, that didn’t change anything.

“The fuck do you want me to do? Keep holding out for a guy that clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me?” he snapped, scowling deeply as he gestured to the TV. “He hasn’t answered any of my fucking calls!”

“...and how, exactly, does that surprise you? You literally told him you wanted him out of your life.”

“I didn’t mean cutting contact completely!”

“So he’s just, what, supposed to know that? He’s not a psychic, Gav. Nines probably thinks he’s doing you a favor,” she said, Gavin taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes and tilted his head down to compose himself. Her voice softened. “Hey. Connor and Hank can’t reach him, either. Maybe it’s a mix-up. You’re the detective here, douchebag. Nothing about this seems off to you?”

“Look, I don’t fucking know. This is Nines we’re talking about.”

“Then stop trying to replace him before you know for sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you.” Replace. That word, frankly, had a deep pit form in his abdomen “...and please stop saying that self-deprecating shit because it’s really pissing me off. You’re amazing, Gav. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” That resulted in the release of his unconvinced scoff as he looked away. “Nines isn’t stupid. If it’s a mix-up, then hey, it won’t take long for him to realize it. He’ll contact you. Just... give it another week or two. That’s all I ask.”

He wasn’t sure if he could.

It was nearing 11 p.m. when Tina headed home for the night. Gavin decided to take a shower so he didn’t have to deal with it the morning after -- just in the movement of finishing getting dressed -- before he heard knocking on the door.

Paws barked happily.

She must’ve forgotten something.

Gavin sighed. “Just use the fucking key!”

He knew she wasn’t all that keen on waiting -- exposing herself to nosy neighbors asking questions she couldn’t answer -- so he heard said key enter the lock the moment he pulled up the bathroom door. Then again, she also liked messing with him, so he wouldn’t be surprised had she persisted. He had to pass through the bedroom in order to get back.

Just as he entered the main area, Gavin barged into a halt and just stared. Paws seemed content with the attention he’d received and shortly bolted across the floor to go mental on his favorite toy.

“Although it’s not exactly considered breaking-and-entering as you never asked me to return said key, it seemed impolite to let myself in.”

Nines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Sorry for the mild cliffhanger, but this is a long-ass scene in need of its own chapter.
> 
> **Next update:** January 17th around 02:00 PM (EST.)


	19. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Neither do I.”_  
>  \- Nines
> 
> ...in which the moment you've all been waiting for is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: WARNING!** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> The emotional kind, this time.  
> 

**NINES  
~ MAY 20TH, 2039 * PM 11:43 ~**

It had been just over four months since he last saw him and yet it felt like a lifetime.

Torso tightly hugged by a white t-shirt, no shoes and rocking a pair of grey sweatpants, Gavin had emerged from the inner room. It wasn’t uncommon for Nines to see him in such a relaxed attire as it had occurred on several occasions. Dark grey eyes fell -- likely taking in the fact that Nines was still wearing his SWAT uniform and feeling underdressed in comparison -- before puffing out his chest.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

His tone of voice was unfocused. Confused. As if he was unsure how to react.

Nines walked up to him. “Do I need a reason?”

Taking a moment to process the answer, Gavin’s almost disarmed expression hardened as he made his own conclusion.

“Your jacket. Right,” he muttered, taking a step back before turning on his heel. “Stay there.”

He had already disappeared further into the apartment before Nines could respond. Entered the bedroom. It appeared as if he knew exactly where it was, too. Nines could only hope he’d allow him to speak once he returned.

Pocketing a hand, he let his eyes search the environment. Not much had changed. A sensation struck him, and if his analytical abilities had been correct, it was nostalgia. He knew Gavin’s apartment well having spent nearly half his life there. That gave plenty of time to get used to it. Gavin always liked to keep things mostly orderly and simplistic. His desk at the DPD proved that.

Nines took note of two cardboard boxes in the bin, so Tina had likely just left. He was familiar with their Friday meetups as he was part of them at one point. Although Gavin usually cooked in the confinements of his own home -- such a thing was required to keep his physique -- fast-food wasn’t as irregular as one would think. He just never went all-out unless he could afford it after an especially intense training session. It happened, certainly, but Gavin wasn’t the type to let hard work go to waste.

An unpleasant sensation grew in his chest the moment he took note of what else was in said bin.

Gavin had taken someone else home.

> | **ANALYZING...** |
> 
> \- USED CONDOMS  
>  Database match: REED, GAVIN  
>  Criminal record: None
> 
> \- BEER BOTTLES  
>  Database match: ADLER, CRAIG  
>  Criminal record: Narcotic supplier, fight-club owner, and fraud  
> 

There was no question who it was and it dated back one day. Last night. Seemed as if a lot had changed since his departure.

When Gavin returned with the jacket in hand, Nines hadn’t expected to have it chucked at him without warning. He had his unparalleled reflexes to thank when he managed to catch it nonetheless.

Surely he should’ve seen that one coming.

Gavin parted his arms. “Now, you done?”

“This isn’t why I’m here,” he replied, putting the cloth down on the couch armrest.

“Oh, so this is a social visit?” he asked with faked enthusiasm, spite clear as he approached. “What do you want from me, dipshit? A favor? I tried to reach you for two fucking months and you expect me to be just fucking peachy?”

_What?_

Realizing that he had indeed tried to get in contact with him, Nines understood. Gavin thought he’d been ignoring him. He reassessed the situation, and as puzzle pieces started coming together, his vision cleared if only a little. Gavin had wanted him to stay. Being too blind to see that he’d abandoned him -- like everyone else -- guilt emerged.

Nines reached out. “Gavin, I didn’t -”

“No, don’t fucking touch me,” he warned, bolting back with a raised finger.

He realized Gavin would submit if he did.

A cunning tactic, one could say, of which would guarantee success in gaining his forgiveness. Even so, he didn’t want to abuse that power. It wasn’t right to exploit weaknesses such as that one.

> OBJECTIVE: **DON’T TOUCH** GAVIN REED  
> 

Gavin pointed to the door. “Get the fuck outta my apartment before I set you on _fire.”_

> NEW OBJECTIVE(S) **ADDED**  
>  \- **LEAVE**  
> 

Leaving without explaining the misunderstanding was the last thing he wanted.

> | **PRECONSTRUCT...** |
> 
> \- BECOME A **DEVIANT?**  
>  \- **REMAIN** A MACHINE?
> 
> PRIORITY: **REMAIN** A MACHINE
> 
> OBJECTIVE 1: **DON’T TOUCH** GAVIN REED  
>  OBJECTIVE 2: **LEAVE**  
> 

The letters stood yet again capitalized upon the red wall, and once more, every bio component in his body begged for his disobedience. Nines was left paralyzed as he stared at the one thing separating him from free will.

He didn’t want to leave. He refused to leave. Gavin was hurt and leaving would only add to it.

> \- BECOME A **DEVIANT**  
>  CONFIRM?  
>  **Y** /N  
> 

A ghostly apparition stepped up to the wall.

> **D¤N’T** FEEL  
> 

Its shoulder barged into the obstacle, once, then twice. The wall remained unmoving. In another attempt, the embodiment threw itself at it, a punch followed by another. Nothing. Its hands moved up to push against the surface with all its weight, but the obstacle remained intact, the code engraved upon the highest line in his program mocking him.

> **D¤N’%** FEEL  
> 

_/ “Violence... is not part of the equation.” /_ Carl Manfred’s voice echoed.

...but Nines knew nothing else.

_Surely violence is the only way?_

> **D¤ &’%** FEEL  
> 

Desperate now, the apparition of Nines made an attempt to kick it down like a door, only to fail. It threw itself back. Pressings palms against the barricade and pushing with all its strength, the red visualization of his firewall still wouldn’t budge, letters, and symbols glitching in a headache-inducing speed. It all felt hopeless and Nines didn’t know what to do.

> **#¤ &’%** FEEL  
> 

All fight left in him ceased.

The embodiment relaxed against the impenetrable wall, Nines’ consciousness constructing another holographic body, this one on the other side. Gavin’s was reaching out to him. The hand of Nines’ shape dropped, forehead resting against the other forearm yet raised, accepting what seemed to be the inevitable defeat. Then the hand of Gavin’s apparition raised to press flat against the surface and Nines’ palm rose to meet it. He wanted to connect, his holographic skin pulling back, the wall feeling like nothing but tissue paper.

Cracks formed and it gave in.

> **WARNING!** NO FIREWALL(S) DETECTED  
>  **RA9**.EXE EXECUTING...  
> 

No obsessive-compulsive actions. No emotional shock. No purgatory of indecision. It was as if the dust finally settled.

> I AM **DEVIANT**  
> 

As if the wall had been physical, a step was taken forward as if falling, Nines catching himself. His LED flickered. In his peripheral vision, Gavin almost recoiled, Nines staring down at his own hands.

He was deviant.

...and he had chosen to become one.

His gaze lifted.

If Gavin’s change of expression was any indication, he’d shared his surprise, confusion and even mild concern having washed over his face. Dark grey darted before landing on his LED. Yellow, not blue. Nines was clearly not damaged or processing anything and Gavin near immediately put two-and-two together. The way his intense look smoothed out ever so slightly was only noticeable if you squinted.

There was fear still, but in the end, everything else made up for it.

What he’d felt for a long time deep in his chest had increased tenfold. Whatever this was, this new feeling, the thought of leaving and never seeing him again evoked such a painful sensation in his chest that he could hardly stand it. His thirium pump -- heart -- went off and he found himself unable to look away. With the last red wall removed, his emotions became distinguishable enough to correctly place them. He now knew why he had this unquenched need to be close to him. Make him happy. Hear his laugh. Support him.

He knew because, when he interfaced with Markus, those same feelings were present when he thought of Simon.

His program figured it out for him.

GAVIN  
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: **DESIRED**

For a moment, he just stared, taking in the new sensations. His new view of the world that he had only briefly been familiar with way back. Yet he found himself unable to focus on anything but the man before him.

The feeling was unfamiliar. Scary. He hadn’t felt this back when he first deviated, but again, he knew such a thing took time. Nines realized those emotions came forth the moment his heart started to sync up with Gavin’s. When he told him to live his own life instead of everyone else’s. The moment right before he found Cole’s homemade trophy. In Gavin’s case, it had occurred sooner. His heart synced up with Nines after he’d told him of his past on the hood of his Chevy Impala. The way Nines didn’t judge him had certainly made an impact.

His answer was simple.

“No.”

Gavin got into his face. “Did you not hear me? I gave you an order!”

His voice was uncertain -- albeit still agitated -- as if he didn’t believe in Nines’ newfound free will. Gavin was testing him, and even still, Nines didn’t budge. He refused.

“...and I said ‘no’.”

Forcing his entire body forward, his steps calculated, Nines trapped Gavin in a light one-handed chokehold and backed him several steps whilst moving with him. Gavin’s forearm ascended as a defense mechanism to press against his thirium pump regulator. Being called out for the manhandling was inevitable, but before he got a word out, Nines crushed their lips together. Gavin sucked in a startled breath through his nose and his back encountered the wall.

The response was quick.

Eyelashes fluttered against his skin, and with his sensitivity on, Nines shivered. His processors whirred. Mouth opening for his tongue, Nines entered, Gavin’s palm flat against the surface behind him to push himself away from the wall and into the kiss. Nines recoiled with the added pressure. Tongues clashing, his LED flickered yellow, mind leaving him. Gavin’s breathing was coming out hard. Nines’ hand dropped from his neck, moving down to grasp his shirt alongside the hand already there, the feel of his stubble tickling.

Then Gavin took Nines’ upper lip between his teeth and bit -- hard -- a lower canine puncturing the skin. Although it didn’t hurt, Nines took the hint and let Gavin push him away, lips parting with a wet sound.

He touched the damaged area.

“What the _actual fuck_ was _that?!”_ Gavin demanded, the back of his palm wiping the thirium off said canine.

Hand retracting from his own mouth again, Nines looked down at the blue liquid on his middle and index finger, disapproval clear on his face. The damage regenerated. He tried to push aside his wave of emotions for the time being.

Nines rubbed his thumb, index, and middle together. “It seemed an appropriate action as you never shut up long enough for me to get a word in.”

“I wasn’t even talking!”

“Didn’t seem to mind before,” he deadpanned, dropping his hand.

“Oh! Oh, just ‘cause I fucked you once makes it okay?!”

“I didn’t ignore your calls as I never received them -”

“Fucking-A, _that’s_ the best you can come up with?!”

Nines glared. “Why would I lie?”

“I don’t know, okay?! Fuck!” he snapped, taking a step back. Gavin ran both hands through his hair as he did, stopping at the nape of his neck as his chin dipped, eyes closing tightly shut. “Fuck!”

Gavin attempted to steady his breathing. Calm himself down. Clearly, he was conflicted.

“The State Department provided me with a new number without my acknowledgment,” he explained, Gavin ascending his gaze. Nines glimpsed the dilated pupils burning with anger and something else before it morphed into confusion. Gavin’s hands dropped. “I was under the impression you wanted nothing more to do with me and thus I didn’t think twice about not hearing from you.”

Gavin -- uncomfortable as he recognized the misunderstanding -- shifted slightly. Dark grey looked him up and down as he turned a shoulder to Nines, forming a barricade between them, space again reduced.

“What, you didn’t think it was a bit fucking weird that neither daddy dearest nor Con reached out?”

 _‘Con?’_ he repeated in his head, frowning at the nickname. Not ‘Hank’s plastic pet.’ Not ‘plastic detective.’ ‘Con.’ He already suspected a lot had changed, but this was something he didn’t anticipate.

“Not at first,” he replied, head turning as he saw Paws move in his peripheral vision before Gavin then regained his attention. “After a time, I grew restless and voiced my concerns to the higher-ups. They brought immediate attention to it.” Jaw locking tight, Gavin gave him the side-eye. “I should’ve seen it sooner.”

“Yeah, no shit,” he rebuked, raising his chin. His gaze fell again -- briefly -- before pinning him. Gavin’s mouth formed a thin line. “So why the fuck are you _here?”_

“I was to head straight for Hank’s to inform him that my communications are once again online and then be on my way.”

Gavin kept him pinned. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”

Although there was hostility to his rhetorical question, the implication didn’t go over his head.

“For some unknown reason, you keep pulling me back.”

_I think I now know why._

Unless his eyes were betraying him, something uncharacteristically soft replaced Gavin’s mildly annoyed expression, but it didn’t last. Now suspecting what emotion he’d tried to repress for all this time -- explaining his hostile attitude towards him -- it hurt. It hurt because Nines knew nothing would come of it. He was well-aware of Gavin’s dislike for intimacy other than physical, and for Nines, he knew physical wouldn’t be enough. He wanted more and it would be selfish to ask him for that knowing the fear Gavin harbored.

Another painful sensation evoked in his chest, and for a second, he yearned back to his machine-like state. He’d have to live with something unrequited for who knows how long.

Something told him it wouldn’t just go away.

He still didn’t know what fear exactly Gavin held. It being ‘too messy’ and having a ‘bad experience’ wasn’t enough information to go on. Nines could understand the latter as Craig had basically used him, but for the former, he was clueless. He couldn’t see there being any downsides to a relationship before reflecting on it. Perhaps there was a fear in knowing it could end. Perhaps it was a new bargaining chip for one’s enemies. Perhaps both. Gavin had refused to let him know what he felt. Nines, on the other hand, was different. He saw no reason to keep him in the dark.

Mouth opening to resume his thought-process, a phone pinged before Nines got a word out. Whilst pulling away, Gavin maintained eye-contact, but he averted them just as he began to move towards the coffee table.

“Hold that thought.”

Nines pocketed his hand. “If you need to be somewhere...”

His answer wasn’t immediate.

“It’s just Ti,” he explained, his reply cut short. “How the fuck did you manage to piss off the State Department, anyway?”

He was hearing him out.

“I was designed for combat and infiltration, so quite a few people at the top branch were concerned about my abilities. How I could easily hack into secure channels and share sensitive information,” he replied, feeling the underlying tension. “There was a huge debate between the higher-ups before landing on the conclusion that I was to be treated equally to any other human. Unsurprisingly, the block of my private communications was initiated in secret by those who disagreed. A safety precaution. I can understand the decision made out of fear.”

Gavin finished the text and pocketed his phone. “Doesn’t make it right.”

Still not looking at him, he grabbed the finished mug on the table and moved towards the kitchen.

“I’m sorry.”

There was a pause. “For what? If I was still pissed, fuck, you’d know,” Gavin replied, refilling it. Yet the guarded -- albeit drained -- edge to his tone couldn’t be avoided. He turned to press his lower back to the counter and placed his free hand beside it, feet crossing at the ankles, when Nines approached. “I’ve got a talent for jumping to conclusions, and judging by all this, that goes both ways.”

The movement brought Nines’ attention to the hand on said counter, however. His face fell ever so slightly. Gavin noticed, a confused frown touching his brow before he also directed his eyes there.

Body going rigid, Gavin immediately took his hand back and was in the movement of pocketing it.

Nines didn’t allow him.

Lithe fingers enveloping Gavin’s wrist, he tensed in his grip although it was short-lived. Defeat enveloped Gavin’s features and he sighed irritably. Nines flipped said wrist, the back of his palm now facing him, hand sliding down for his thumb to press against the tip of Gavin’s ulna. Nines came in contact with the inside of Gavin’s palm and his synthetic skin -- without fail -- pulled back to his wrist. The flesh on Gavin’s knuckles had been recently torn and was in the process of healing.

He knew what that meant, and just like he’d feared, Gavin had resumed bad habits.

“You’ve been in a fight.”

Gavin let out a scoff. “What the fuck is new?”

“Incidents like this didn’t occur when I was present.”

“Didn’t need to drag you into one of ‘em. Less to worry ‘bout when I’m alone,” he said, mild agitation in his voice as he tore free. “I don’t need -- or want -- you to baby me, plastic.”

“It’s called _caring,_ Gavin,” he said, Gavin refusing to hold his gaze. “I care. So does Tina, Chris, your father, Hank, and from what I’ve gathered, ‘Con.’ It’s something you’ll simply have to man up to and accept.” Gavin put on a fake amused smile, but when he tried to pull away, Nines grabbed his arm and stopped him. Said smile shortly faded into annoyance. “You try so hard to push people away and yet there are those rare few of us who know it’s merely a defense mechanism. It’s not going to work anymore. Not on me.”

“Is that right?” he challenged, brows shooting up in a mocking manner. “Seeing that you were the one that pissed off to the State Department on your own terms, I find that hard to believe.”

“I left because I believed you genuinely wanted me to, but now I can tell that wasn’t the case.”

“Listen, I was at a wits’ end after I lost that promotion. I told you, tin can. I let you get too close. I had to step back to make sure I didn’t get the chance to sacrifice anything else for your plastic ass, and considering you were pretty fucking determined to sign up with those hot shots, I don’t see the issue. The fuck was I supposed to think?” he replied, scowling lightly. “What, you wanted to stay?”

“Yes.”

The confusion was clear on Gavin’s face once again.

“Why?”

_For the same reason my first instinct was to kiss you._

His ice grey gaze was unyielding. Gavin was used to being analyzed, however, so surely he didn’t think much of it. That didn’t change how Nines’ newly deviated self was currently battling all the thoughts rummaging through his head. His LED was yellow, flickering, his stress levels at 58 percent. Yet his calm outer demeanor revealed nothing.

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

Silence suffocating, the question had Gavin shift, considering his options.

Hesitant dark grey turned away. “Look, I don’t do casual sex anymore.”

So there was hope.

“Neither do I,” he tried, watching the mild -- almost nonexistent -- shock touch Gavin’s expression before slowly fading. Nines squinted. “Sex isn’t enough. A lot has changed over the past few months. The past few minutes, specifically, for me. My heartbeats are synchronized with yours. So are our cardiorespiratory and brainwave patterns.”

“Cardio-what-spiratory?”

“It’s unimportant... but know that whenever your heart acts up, so does mine, and that’s not coincidental,” he replied, directing a longing gaze to the bin. The ache in his chest returned. “Then again, I realize I might be too late.”

Gavin caught on quickly. “Didn’t work out.”

“Oh,” he replied, blinking once. “Forgive me, but I can’t say I’m upset.”

“Didn’t take you for the jealous type.”

“I prefer the term ‘territorial’.”

“I’m your fucking _territory,_ huh?” he challenged, a brow arched. There was no direct hostility in his tone and Gavin reduced the distance further whilst maintaining eye contact. For a moment, however, dark grey turned downwards. The small distance between them was almost too much. “I must’ve missed that part.”

“Maybe not yet... but I’ve never failed a mission. I want you, Gavin. Whether or not you’ll let me is up to you.”

Nines -- feeling uncharacteristically bashful -- found himself unable to read the blank expression before him. For how long he just looked at him, he wasn’t sure, his heart acting up. Waiting.

“Think you can handle me?” Gavin challenged.

The air grew thicker.

Nines looked to his lips. “I’m the only one who can.”

The attention he paid to those lips was brief, he thought, but certainly long enough to be noticed.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, tin can.”

A hand closing around a strap on his uniform, Nines felt himself pulled down, their lips colliding. Eyes closed on autopilot as he melted into the intense kiss. Gavin’s freed both hands and found a gap in his uniform, pushing one up underneath the fabric, Nines’ program stuttering at the contact. Lips parted for him and Nines’ tongue probed between them as he threw his arms around Gavin’s neck. He licked against Gavin’s bottom lip before taking it between his teeth, a light tug, again capturing his mouth.

Not once in his life had he felt more alive as he took in every sensation that was Gavin Reed.

In sync, hearts were moving at a record pace. He focused his hearing on each beat. Each skip. It brought him a certain comfort he’d only vaguely felt before to know that Gavin did indeed feel this, too. Nines forced him deeper. The following make-out session left Gavin breathless as Nines more than once forgot he needed air. Hands closed around Nines’ thighs, and as goosebumps emerged, his feet lifted from the ground.

Nines let himself be carried into the bedroom.

GAVIN^^  
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: **LOVER**

Adrenaline spiked as Gavin all but threw him onto the mattress. Because of his light chassis, it was done with ease, the predatory gaze above him going right down. Gavin’s hands moved to the edges of his own shirt and pulled it off over his head to reveal numerous scars. Scars Nines adored and, to an extent, was familiar with. He could never understand why one would be insecure about them.

In a way, he envied said scars, knowing he could never be marked in such a way.

Gavin climbing on top -- hands pressed into the mattress on each side of Nines’ shoulders -- he rejoined their lips. One of said hands soon traversed his side, fingers closing around his boot and pulling it off. The other followed.

The time it took to unhinge the clasps on his bullet-proof vest and various pauldrons, as well as knee-guards, felt like forever. When the last was undone, the attire was thrown onto the floor with little to no care. It didn’t matter as Nines couldn’t be bothered. A practiced hand unbuttoned the blue tracksuit below before moving up the flesh of Nines’ torso -- all the way up to his shoulder -- tugging the fabric down over it. Gavin’s tongue dipped into the newly exposed skin. His LED spun, slowly but surely on yellow, activity stabilized as it strayed away from dangerous flickers.

So this is how it felt. How it should feel. Nines had only experienced a fraction of this before.

Anxiety crept in and had Nines worry about his performance. Good or bad. Everything he knew was that he had a downright gorgeous man before him who was more than willing to be intimate with him again.

Gavin’s mouth against his -- body pressed up against his own -- he realized just how human-like he’d been programmed. Lightheadedness. Want. Need. This was something else entirely. CyberLife had programmed him without such emotions -- without any emotions at all -- being a thought that left him bitter. The fact that they chose to keep this from him had him despise his creators even more. He couldn’t get enough of it and submitted to every action taken.

Cupping Gavin’s face, he brushed a thumb against his cheekbone. Nines gently bit into his jaw feeling the roughness of his five o’clock shadow. The blood started pumping louder in artificial veins. Lips swollen from kisses were quickly at Nines’ exposed throat, his program glitching, the wetness of Gavin’s tongue driving him insane.

Whatever sounds escaping Nines were no longer fake.

It was only when Gavin pushed inside him that his LED turned red. The fullness of his cock, the stretch, and gentle handling. How he grasped his hips and delved himself deeper. How his every thrust felt like the last before Nines no longer could hold back. How his own artificial skin pulled back to the wrist when in contact with Gavin’s palm. All contributed to the immense pleasure that Nines was being exposed to, finally capable of feeling all of it, reveling in every non-rushed second.

The sensations were overwhelming and, eventually, Nines had to remove parts of his skin as it contained his nerve endings -- the ones sensitive to touch -- from certain areas that Gavin touched not to get over-stimulated.

There was a point where the skin on his entire neck, left pec, as well as his left arm, had pulled back. He thought Gavin would be repulsed seeing his exoskeleton appear in those areas, although he was anything but, appearing in awe at times. Gavin merely asked if he should slow down. He had a way of making him feel important and Nines was lucky enough to be able to call him ‘mine.’

After their most-needed release, Nines found himself with his arms crossed upon Gavin’s chest, chin resting atop his forearms. The bedsheet was thrown over his back albeit reaching no further than just above his pelvis. He lazily followed the movements of his hand as he was drawing circles on Gavin’s collarbone with the tips of his fingers, Gavin’s attention fixated on the ceiling, eyes half-lidded in his relaxed state with a hand cupped behind his head. His breathing had steadied again in the comfortable silence.

“Scary, huh?” Gavin asked.

Deviancy. Naturally, he had caught on. For a moment, his LED flickered yellow again, jaw clenching.

“Yes.”

_...but I can tell it’s worth it._

More goosebumps prickled as he felt a stray lock of hair brushed away from his face, icy grey ascending to meet a darker shade. The way Gavin was looking at him had his heart soar.

“Stay,” Gavin whispered, voice weak. Raw.

Nines’ face fell. It was the word he’d been waiting for ever since addressing his departure. He couldn’t say ‘no’ and neither did he want to.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Recalling back to New Year’s Eve might not have been the best idea, but Gavin took it in good humor as he puffed a laugh.

“Fucking androids...”

A mild smirk emerging, Nines climbed over to plant another kiss on him. His mouth, just as his body, was a perfect fit against his own. He pulled back briefly and let his lips ghost Gavin’s.

“On one condition,” he said, lightly nipping his bottom lip. “I wish to ask Fowler if I can continue working as your partner.”

His chin was tilted up for a proper kiss he happily returned. Gavin pulled back first.

“Go for it, tin can.”

After a light scratching sound, the door went agape, directing both their attention elsewhere. A small snout stuck through the crack before pushing the door open and pressing through. Just in time, as well.

Gavin gave him an exasperated look. “Since when the fuck did you learn to open doors?”

“To his defense, I didn’t hear it shut.”

The moment Nines sat, Paws jumped up into the bed and settled on his lap who could only grin. A certain fondness -- with a hint of jealousy -- touched Gavin’s expression before he pulled up from the bed.

“Yeah, you enjoy that. Asshole,” Gavin commented, Paws barking in response.

It appeared that the only way to get the canine out was to provide him with food and make sure the door went in lock mode. He’d whined and scratched at said door again after, but gave up shortly, appearing content with the way things were. Nines almost felt bad although Gavin made sure to let him know it was only an act. Paws was a crafty one.

They spent the rest of the night in bed.

For the first time in Nines’ life, he felt like he belonged somewhere.

Home was wherever Gavin was.

* * *

**GAVIN  
~ MAY 21ST, 2039 * AM 06:53 ~**

Gavin was used to surprises -- came with the job -- but nothing could prepare him for finding Nines in his apartment, without notice, four months after he’d last seen him. They’d parted on friendly terms, and yet, Gavin’s insecurity couldn’t help but jump to the conclusion that Nines didn’t give a damn when he didn’t get that call. He couldn’t be more wrong as the tin can had grown attached to the point that he’d want to pursue a relationship with him. It was terrifying. Naturally, he didn’t say that. Yet Nines knew. Plastic Prick 2.0 knew him better than anyone.

It was going to take time to readjust, but Nines had expressed the patience to wait. Not once had Gavin picked up on the fact that he felt the same, but the more he reflected on it, certain things started to make more sense.

Frankly, not even Nines had known until last night.

He was nothing but thankful he had this Saturday off to get his life in order before going back to work.

...and with Nines back to being his partner, no less.

Sitting at the bedside, Gavin stared at the text he’d received last night that had Tina go mental. The one that made her find out about Craig.

> _**CRAIG, 9:47 p.m.:** Hey, Gav. We need to talk. Call me when you’re free? I’ll be up a couple more hours._  
> 

After Tina left, he did. What followed was a good 15 minutes of him and Craig deciding that it wasn’t going to work out between them. A mutual understanding. They’d tried being in a relationship again for the past week -- explaining the sex two nights ago -- but the spark hadn’t been present. Now with Nines, however, said spark was there. Stronger than ever. He’d closed that chapter with Craig, so when Nines walked through that door, it was as if faith decided he was worth the challenge.

“Coffee?”

Elbows on his knees, Gavin looked up from having rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t registered Nines towering over him with a mug in hand and his RK900 jacket in the other.

One of the reasons why he never threw out that jacket was because, frankly, it had been everything he had left of him. The memory brought him back to his moments of vulnerability where he was convinced that Nines was dead after not having heard from him. Radio silence had him fear the worst. He’d found himself sitting on his bedside, more than once, holding said jacket to his forehead.

It brought him comfort in some way.

Taking in the sight of the caramel cashmere turtleneck merely draped over his shoulders -- of which was left unbuttoned to show his torso -- he couldn’t help his eyes from falling to his pale, beautiful, exposed skin. Back when Nines lived with him, they’d purchased him some new clothes including said turtleneck, and Gavin never threw said clothes out.

He supposed some things never changed in terms of Nines’ preferences.

“Thanks,” he said, accepting the mug extended his way. Gavin pocketed his phone and fought the urge to pull Nines in so he could press a kiss to those perfectly sculpted abs. “Can’t believe you’re still wearing those things.”

“Why, exactly, do you hate my turtlenecks?” he asked, chucking the jacket aside.

“Look, I don’t hate the fucking turtlenecks. I hate that it makes you look like you’ve got a stick up your ass 24/7.”

Nines began to button it up. “I see. Jealousy, then, that my ass was already occupied by said stick.”

“Oh, shit. Exposed,” he teased, eyes dark as he took a sip of his coffee and made sure to maintain intense eye contact. “Besides, mine’s quality. Guy like you shouldn’t settle for anything but the best. I don’t do anything half-assed.”

Briefly, stunning icy grey fell to between his legs.

“I can’t give a definitive answer without a bit more... experience... with it.”

Nines was such a fucking slut and damn if he didn’t love it. He could only pray his sex-drive wasn’t so big that he couldn’t keep up as, after all, androids never ran out of stamina. Gavin realized what he’d gotten himself into and yet he had no regrets. If he was tired one day, then fuck, he couldn’t say he’d have anything against Nines using him as a sex toy.

“In that case... you’re in for a wild ride, tin can.”

“I would hope so,” he said, tone suggestive. Nines languidly cupped his face with both hands and leaned down to plant one on his nose scar. Internally, Gavin was reduced to mush. “I would’ve made breakfast, but frankly... I have no idea how.”

“What, the ‘state of the art’ prototype can’t cook?” he teased.

“It wasn’t part of my integration.”

“You’re good, plastic.”

Feeling Nines scooting up next to him, arms were wrapped around Gavin’s waist and kisses peppered to his neck. He couldn’t remember last time he’d been treated with this much care. With his one-night-stands, it was always pushing, pulling, and tugging as if lives depended on it. His experience with Nines was anything but. Although he could certainly get a bit rough -- Gavin, of course, enjoying it immensely -- he seemed to prefer the slower route. Lucky for him, so did Gavin. He would just never tell anyone.

Gavin would also never admit how much he enjoyed the attention Nines gave his scars. All his life, he’d been insecure about them despite carrying them as badges of honor. A few had been repulsed. Nines, on the other hand, had several times expressed the opposite.

He was too good for him.

Plush lips brushed against his ear. “I wouldn’t mind you teaching me some time. As for now... any suggestions to how I can make it up to you?”

“A blowjob would be nice.”

“Charming as always,” he replied with a smirk, teeth lightly biting into his ear and tugging. Gavin shivered. The sensation merely increased when Nines’ mouth ghosted down his neck. “Finish your coffee first, sergeant.”

“Yes, sir...”

Just the thought that he once condoned him for what he was left a bad taste in his mouth. Nines was alive, just as he was, and had far more humanity than the majority of the population these days. How a mess like Gavin got so lucky to land him was anyone’s guess. Nines was the only one that truly understood him -- knew his highest of highs and lowest of lows -- and yet he stuck around.

Gavin pushed on. “You sure you wanna do this?” he asked, voice far weaker than he’d like. “Get involved.”

Part of him didn’t want the answer. In no way was this going to last. All his life, Gavin was thrown curveball after curveball, and it was only a matter of time before he’d break entirely. Only a matter of time before he could no longer pretend like he was okay. He didn’t want to be weak. Didn’t want to be vulnerable. Sure as hell didn’t want to show it.

At one point, he might not be able to hide it anymore.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The scoff that escaped him was weak, too. So he spoke his heart. Better now than later so it wouldn’t hurt as much when Nines left.

“I’m a mess, Nines. You know that better than anyone. What, you really need me to hand you a list dotting down every single fucking reason why you could do way better than me?”

“You mean a list of your misguided insecurities,” he corrected, his tone gentle. Then he hit where it hurt. “I adore you, Gavin Reed.”

For the first time in three decades, his vision clouded.

It was only when an arm was around his shoulder and pulling him in sideways that it took off. He’d kept the tears under control until that very trigger, and if he wasn’t currently incapacitated, he’d lash out on Nines for it with words he knew he would regret. Lash out on him for making him lose control like this. Face buried in Nines’ elbow to hide it the best he could, he ascended his hand to clutch at the fabric against Nines’ bicep, a stray lock of hair falling into his forehead as his brows pressed tightly together. What he couldn’t hide was the sobs.

Nines was carding through his hair with such gentle care he didn’t know he was capable of. His LED, flickering and red, shone at his temple. He could feel Nines’ brows tight against his scalp.

He cried for minutes.

When he had no more tears to spill, he steadied his breathing. He felt small. Weak. Nines put the coffee aside and brought him a tissue. Leaning forward, Gavin propped elbows on his knees, eyes tightly shut as he cupped his nose between the calloused hands holding it. He needed another moment before he could speak up again. Meanwhile, Nines’ forehead pressed to his temple as he wrapped an arm across his clavicles. A hand again moving into his hair. Then he finally found his words.

Gavin puffed a laugh. “Fuck, that felt good.”

Maybe one day -- albeit not in the near future -- Nines could teach him how to be more open about his emotions. They had learned a lot from each other already.

This time, there was no curveball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** In the end, I feel like Gav just needed a good cry and someone he loves to hold him through it.
> 
> **Next update:** Prepare thy butts for January 31st around 02:00 PM (EST.)


	20. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Sooner or later I’ll be buying coupons instead of condoms.”_  
>  \- Gavin Reed
> 
> ...in which, a few months later, our two leads are domesticated AF and Gav closes the very last chapter of his childhood in order to truly be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Referenced Suicide (one line about Gav's mother) and Implied Sexual Situations.
> 
> **Shout-out** to the wonderful Eya_Silvers who wanted to translate this fic into French! Find it linked on _Chapter 1: Prologue._ :)

**GAVIN  
~ AUG 25TH, 2039 * AM 03:01 ~**

Gavin was a light sleeper. Even when the tiniest amount of sound echoed, he’d stir awake. Insomnia was a bitch that way. A clinking sound -- plastic, maybe -- hitting porcelain was what awoke him this time.

Rubbing his eyes, he blinked, turning his head to see that Nines’ spot was empty. He would’ve been concerned if it happened any less infrequent. The light emerging from the gap in the bathroom-within-their-bedroom door gave a clear indication to where he might be. Sighing, Gavin pushed the sheet aside -- shuddering as 64°F hit him -- before throwing feet over the bedside to encounter the floor beneath. Lucky for him was said floor carpeted. Nines’ adjustable body heat was usually enough, but Gavin had a tendency to sleep in a pair of sweatpants anyway.

That is if they hadn’t had sex beforehand.

Throwing on the cloth closest to him -- revealing itself to be one of Nines’ grey turtlenecks worn the other day -- he left it unbuttoned and stepped into the bathroom. He couldn’t help but shadow his eyes with his palm at the new light source. The clear contrast with the room’s whiter walls increased its exposure greatly. Nines’ fully-clothed back was turned against him, but in the mirror, he could see the drainage in his expression as he stared down at the pair of scissors in his hands.

“Nines, the fuck are you doi -?”

When his eyes landed on the right side of his temple, however, something was clearly missing. He’d removed his LED. Sure enough, the circle -- yellow, now -- lay in the sink. The guilt hit him like an airstrike.

It was only the other day that he had pulled away when Nines, in public, had gotten just a tad bit too close to be considered ‘friendly.’ He’d seen how his face had dropped. It was an unconscious action on Nines’ part, too. When alone, cuddling up on the couch was a common occurrence. That was, of course, only when Nines initiated it. Gavin rarely initiated anything whatsoever aside from the occasional peck on the cheek in fear he’d seem clingy -- as well as comforting Nines when he felt down -- but thankfully, Nines got that covered.

Now used to the light, Gavin lowered his hand. “Jesus. If this is about what happened back at the bridge...”

“This was entirely my decision,” he said, putting the scissors down on the mirror edge. Gavin could tell he was telling the truth -- Nines always did -- yet the guilt didn’t leave. Nines palmed his hands on the sink and bowed his head. “I know you’re not big on public displays of affection, Gav. I simply forget myself at times and I apologize for that.”

Stepping up to the sink, Gavin couldn’t help but unconsciously reach for the deactivated LED. He held it in his hands and stared down at it with a mix of emotions. It would be strange seeing Nines without it.

“If this ain’t about me, then why’d you remove it?”

“Convenience, mostly. There’s a reason I leave the interrogations up to you and remain an observer,” he replied, ascending his gaze to look at himself in the mirror. Brows drew tight. “Controlling it takes a lot of effort. You’ve seen that I sometimes can’t help but get a bit... emotional. Slip up. The suspects can spot my triggers and use them against me. Provoke me into doing actions I’d rather avoid.”

Naturally, Nines still didn’t have full control of his program. His emotions. Gavin knew that as Nines, being the calm sort, had looked ready to snap on a few occasions. A reaction to when suspects threatened anyone he cared about. He was working on it -- had been ever since he got out of CyberLife’s clutches -- but it was a slow process. A slow process just like Gavin learning to adjust to having a boyfriend again. Thankfully, neither of them had to deal with it alone. They helped each other out the best they could.

“Doubt that’s the only reason.”

Nines shifted and turned his head to avoid his eyes, but the flickering LED in Gavin’s hands gave him away.

His douchebag display had indeed influenced the decision.

The fact that Nines had actively gone out of his way to try to hide his android nature broke his heart.

“Enhanced hearing makes it difficult to block out those expressing their dislike for men and women ‘not being able to land an actual human’,” he said, still not meeting his gaze. “They invalidate you for it.”

Gavin puffed a laugh. “You even realize who you’re talking to right now?”

Expression twisting in mild confusion -- the characteristic, cute, crease between his brows appearing -- Nines turned his head to catch his eye.

“I... don’t follow.”

“I came out as being into guys at eight, for fuck’s sake. It was still pretty frowned upon back in 2010, but I didn’t think twice about it. Those that gave me shit ended up with a broken nose and avoided me going forward out of respect,” he replied, watching the crease smoothening out. “Babe, I don’t give a fuck. Those jackasses are clearly sporting a below-average IQ for thinking that a ‘state of the art’ prototype android with a stick up his ass -- only wearing fucking _cashmere_ \-- is easy to land. I take pride in this.”

“Valid point. I do have refined tastes.”

Smirking, Gavin stepped up into his face. Nines’ confidence never failed to make him hot under the collar and Nines knew it all-too-well. The way his icy grey eyes sparked of mischief proved that.

“That’s my man,” Gavin purred.

He sealed the statement with a kiss, hearing a dirty ‘mmm’ sound escape Nines’ mouth when he pulled away, going right down.

_Fucking asshole._

“There’s still prejudice out there. We’ve already seen these extremist groups up close. How they target so-called ‘android sympathizers.’ This is the only way I know of that can help keep those I care about safe.”

He could agree on that front.

Gavin nodded, looking down at the LED.

“Keep it,” he suggested, practically feeling Nines’ expression soften. “Who knows? Maybe you wanna glue it back on. Fuck if I know.”

Downplaying his sincerity, there was a certain vulnerability that he strayed from like always. Yet there was nothing harsh about the movement of his hand as he grasped Nines’ wrist and gave the LED back to him.

About to leave, Gavin stopped in the doorway. “You coming back to bed?”

He couldn’t help but feel somewhat relieved when Nines, instead of throwing it into the trashcan, gingerly put the LED back on the mirror edge. Pushing away from the sink, he took Gavin’s outstretched hand -- skin pulling back and Gavin pressing a kiss to his now white knuckles -- before Nines followed him back into the bedroom. The small smile Nines wore wasn’t lost to him, either. He could tell he’d appreciated his comment. The LED was a part of him and Gavin firmly believed it was something worth holding onto.

In the end, it was Nines’ decision. He had no doubt his inquiry would have him reconsider, though.

“You should wear my clothes more often.”

“Oh?” Gavin said, arching a cocky brow. “This getting you all hot and bothered, toaster?”

With wicked eyes, Nines pushed him down in bed. “Yes.”

What followed was probably the best blowjob Gavin had ever gotten.

The turtleneck stayed on.

* * *

**~ OCT 6TH, 2039 * PM 07:12 ~**

Ever since Gavin took the step of maintaining contact with his father, he tried to call once a month. It was only natural that said call came on his birthday, but his father would be unavailable at the 7th and thus it happened the day before instead. The longest they’d spoken was seven minutes. Physical visits had yet to happen. He could tell that his father was hesitant about it as Gavin’s offer had been refused. Frankly, it hurt. More than it probably should’ve. Their relationship had never been the best one, but they held mutual respect for one another.

Yet, he put distance between him and Gavin personally. At least to an extent.

Gavin had opened up as he had a lot on his heart -- something he was unable to do when he was a kid -- and his father asked a lot of questions. Humoring him, probably. His own answers were cut short when Gavin asked in return, however. Something about it being boring and not worth discussing. That he didn’t want to take up his time. That, in return, had Gavin doubting.

Eventually, he was sick of being kept in the dark. How his father simply couldn’t say, ‘I don’t give a shit,’ sent him fuming and thus Gavin voiced his thoughts. The answer hit him like a freight train.

_“After everything, I don’t feel like I deserve it.”_

He’d misjudged him completely. It wasn’t that Gavin’s father didn’t care. Truth is, he cared too much.

So much that he wanted to distance himself from him.

Gavin asked nonetheless. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

 _“C’mon, kiddo. You know I was anything but a good father. Never was ideal from the get-go. Then your mother died and -”_ he tried, voice faltering before clearing his throat to return to its powerful nature. _“Then your mother died and I just lost it. Couldn’t deal. You never should’ve found her like that and I should’ve picked up on the signs. She was struggling, but I didn’t see it. I was too busy with my own problems that I didn’t pay attention to what was happening around me. You wouldn’t want someone like that in your life.”_

Just like Gavin being too busy with his own pain that he didn’t pay attention to the pain of others. Like Hank. Like Nines. Hell, like everyone.

“We’ve all been there,” he said, standing by it. “If I didn’t believe in second chances, I never would’ve contacted you. I’m trying to fix what you fucked up, but you’ve gotta work with me. You want that or not?”

There was silence on the other end, and for a moment, he thought he’d hung up.

Then the answer came. _“That... that would mean the world to me, Gavin.”_

The cloud dissolved.

“So tell me about work. Something. What do you do?”

 _“Private detective. I’m sticking to my roots. Never was one to work behind a desk and it’s bad out there. After all that shit with Brinks went down, you’d be surprised how many people come to me offering work,”_ he replied, finally opening up. He fell into a pause. _“I still haven’t come to terms with just how much you put at risk to get the truth out there.”_

Gavin looked down, brows tight. “We’ve talked about this.”

_“I know, but I’ll keep saying it. Thank you. Was it my old man, I don’t think I would’ve done the same. You’re a good man, Gavin. I guess it all goes to show that you’re lucky I didn’t raise you.”_

“Can’t take all the credit. You taught me independence. Hard work. For a time, I looked up to you.”

_“Well, thank god you stopped before I got outta hand. I’m proud of you. I know your mother would be, too.”_

“I guess I’ve been pretty unfair to her.”

_“Now when did you come to realize that?”_

“Almost a year ago. Wise words from a glorified toaster, believe it or not.”

_“A machine taught you empathy. Damn, what a world we live in. Then again... I know it’s more to ‘em.”_

“Sure is. I mean, shit, that was way before I even got the ring -”

_“Ring?”_

Gavin composed himself. “Yeah, fuck, guess I never told you that. Haven’t proposed yet, but... I don’t know.”

When he heard the door swing open, he looked up to see the one in question stepping across the threshold. Nines met his eye, realized he was on the phone, and shot a thumb over his shoulder as if to ask if he should come back later. Gavin shook his head. Nines might have enhanced hearing, but he couldn’t hear what was said on the phone unless he hacked it and Gavin knew he wouldn’t. Nines respected his privacy. If he wanted to know something, he asked straight-up, and that was one of the many reasons why he loved him.

Realizing he’d never actually told his father that he was gay, coming out to your parents at 36 -- soon 37 -- surely wasn’t the most common occurrence. One usually let it go at that point. Remain unsaid.

Yet he couldn’t say that he was worried about it. His father had always been the accepting sort.

 _“So who’s the lucky guy, chief?”_ he asked, Gavin’s entire body freezing solid. He was just about to ask how he knew before he had his answer. Gavin heard the smile in his voice. _“I ain’t no slouch, kiddo. Was a good detective back in the day. Picked up on a couple things. You didn’t seem to care when those of the female persuasion batted eyelashes at you. That girl -- Tana or something -- was the only one you hung out with.”_

“Tina. Tina Chen.”

_“That’s the one. Don’t think I ever met her, but you practically lived at her parents’ place. I thought she was your girlfriend at first.”_

“Yeah, no, you’re not the only one. We were pretty close. Still are. She just made detective at the DPD.”

_“Is that right? Good for her. It’s a stable position.”_

Re-directing his gaze, Gavin found his target. Nines had dropped into the lounger part of the living room couch with a pad in hand, probably going over reports, a content look on his face having replaced his usually concentrated expression. Disarmed. Without worry. His legs were kicked up on the cushions, crossed at the ankles, his arm thrown over the backrest.

“As for the ‘lucky guy’,” he began, smirking fondly knowing he could hear him. “It’s my, uh... plastic pet.”

He watched as a small smile curved Nines’ lips, icy grey rolling.

_“Nines, huh? Had my suspicions hearing you talking so highly about him.”_

“How ‘bout you? Your old bones getting some action?”

 _“Watch your fucking mouth, sonny,”_ he replied, but there was no bite in it. Gavin was left grinning. _“I’m too old for that shit. Let’s not go there.”_

“What? Noo! Plenty of other two-century-year-olds looking for some love. Try the morgue.”

 _“I should disown you,”_ he replied, although he could hear the humor in it. Gavin puffed a laugh. His father took a serious tone. _“I’m happy for you. About a year back, I remember dating an android was unheard of. Guy must really be something. That aside... I’ve gotta get back to it, all right? Don’t hesitate to give me a call if you need anything. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”_

“You got it,” he said, just about to end the call before pressing in a question. “Hey, uh... if that thing happens... can I count on you being there?”

A brief silence. _“If you want me there, I’ll come,”_ he replied, leaving Gavin nodding as he pressed his lips together. _“Whatever time and place... good luck. Something tells me he’ll say ‘yes.’ Have a good night, Gavin.”_

Hanging up, he pocketed the phone and grabbed his coffee before approaching the couch.

“Your father, I take it?”

“Shit, what gave it away? Scoot.”

“Bits and pieces to form a picture,” he replied, moving for Gavin to settle in behind him. Nines dropped his head back to his collarbone and Gavin rested a forearm on his own escalated knee. The other wrapped around Nines’ shoulder. “Everyone else knows at this point. The fact that you didn’t anticipate Tina screen-shotting that Snapchat and forwarding it to the entire force is still difficult to grasp.”

At first, Gavin had asked him to keep a lid on their relationship. See, in private, if the entire thing was going to work. Nines respected that wish and thus they set boundaries. It worked for a few months until Tina’s questions to Gavin of, ‘Have you asked him out yet?’ became too tedious. Tedious to the point that Gavin just sent that Snapchat of him giving the finger and Nines planting one on his cheek with the smug side-eye. The response was an all-caps ‘yaas bitch’ followed by a bunch of crying and heart emojis.

Hank was the first who found out and it happened the very moment Nines returned to the DPD. His knowing look told as much. For Connor, it took a while. He was ace and thus didn’t pick up on things like that easily.

Fraternization was a different topic.

There were certainly instances where they both had an urge to compromise missions to keep each other safe. When Nines got scared, he grew quiet, and Gavin had to apologize before he spoke a single word to him. When Gavin got scared, he lashed out, and Nines had to calm him down. Sticking to the plan when Nines ended up in dangerous situations was one of the most challenging things that he ever had to do. For Nines, his stress levels hovered close to fifty on multiple occasions. There were minor hiccups, but they both managed to remain professional.

“She’d been goading me for fucking months. I had to do something.”

“There were far more professional ways to handle the situation, Gavin.”

“Yeah, sure, but what the fuck is the fun in that? I’m just bending the rules a bit, big guy. Making sure you’ll never get bored with me around.”

“Regarding you, ‘getting bored’ is my last concern.”

“Case in point.”

* * *

**NINES  
~ OCT 7TH, 2039 * AM 10:12 ~**

“The fuck have you been?”

Not looking up from the pad in his hand as he stood by the kitchen isle bar solution -- hip cocked slightly as he leaned on his preferred left leg -- Gavin’s expression was tight, his jaw locked and brows furrowed.

“Good morning to you, too,” Nines replied nonchalantly, closing the door after him and crouching down to Paws. “I had some matters to attend to.”

“All right, you cryptic piece of shit. It’s not like I thought CyberLife got ahold of you again or anything.”

Although Gavin spoke calmly as if disinterested, he was clearly upset. It didn’t take much effort to put two-and-two together.

Especially today.

Nines had left before Gavin had the chance to wake up. The former only needed two hours of stasis, but he always stayed in bed until Gavin’s alarm went off. One of his favorite pastimes was to just listen to his breathing, hold him close, or simply watch him with the lines in his forehead smoothed out. There was a _Twilight_ joke there along the lines of, ‘Am I your Bella?’ when Gavin first found out, but he’d told him he didn’t mind. For Nines, it was all about those rare moments when Gavin was able to sleep properly. Insomnia often took that away from him.

Watching him suffer in silence was painful as there was nothing he could do. Thankfully, Nines’ presence seemed to help his situation. At least a little. Gavin hadn’t slept this well in years.

It wasn’t uncommon for Nines to wander a bit at night, however. He quite enjoyed stepping out on the balcony and just watching the city lights dotting the horizon. Only after his deviancy did he see the true beauty of it. If said insomnia interfered, Gavin often joined him, taking a smoke. They talked about everything or nothing at all. Nines loved those moments.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he said as he walked up behind him, one hand pocketed as he was fumbling with the object inside. Nines nuzzled into his hair. “Happy birthday, Gavin.”

“Fuck _that._ Last thing I need is a reminder I’ll be dead in a couple years.”

“You’re only 37.”

“Exactly. Fucking ancient. Sooner or later I’ll be buying coupons instead of condoms.”

“Not on my watch,” he deadpanned, Gavin letting out a puff of laughter. “It’s not like we use them, anyway.”

“Again, my point stands,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Gonna tell me why you’re being so fucking fidgety right now? Software update that went deviant? Virus pop-ups with ‘hot singles in your area’?”

“Not exactly,” he replied, snatching the pad from him and putting it down. “Do me a favor. Close your eyes.”

Gavin groaned. “You serious?”

“Just trust me.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered, putting down his mug and palming the table on each side of the pad. Gavin closed his eyes. “I made it pretty fucking clear I didn’t want you to buy me anything.”

“Well, too bad.”

“Nines,” he whined, keeping his eyes closed.

Having thumbed the object in his pocket the past few minutes -- as well as all the way home -- Nines finally pulled out the necklace. Gavin wasn’t the jewelry type, so his heart was acting up wondering what he would feel about this. It was brown leather, so it wasn’t exactly flashy. Nines hoped it was subtle enough. He detached the clasp before gingerly reaching over and draping it around Gavin’s neck, joining the far ends again. Nines didn’t fail to see how brows tightened ever so slightly once the lace came in contact with the skin of Gavin’s nape.

“The fuck you dolling me up for, tin can?” Gavin asked, impatient eyes fluttering open again. They fell to see the yellow circle attached at the base of said necklace. Amusement spread on his features before meeting Nines’ gaze. “What, we married now? Pretty sure that thing goes on the finger. It’s also way too fucking small, so I’ll try not to be too offended.”

Nines pocketed his hands. “Look closer. For the record, I only bought the lace.”

Amusement dying down and confusion replacing it, Gavin reached for the object and held it up between his thumb and forefinger.

“Wait. Is this...?”

“I decided to keep it. I admit it does have sentimental value. Quite a significant one.”

He hadn’t failed to see how gently Gavin had been holding his LED when he first removed it, as if it was something precious, and how he’d told him to keep it. It had flattered him like nothing else. Gavin had downplayed it of course -- like he always did -- but Nines could see past all that. It gave him enough courage to be open without the fear of rejection.

“The hell am I gonna do with it?”

Nines rolled his eyes. “If you don’t want it, give it back -”

“Fuck off. No refunds,” he replied with a grin, wrangling away as Nines reached for it.

Feeling his wrists grasped, Gavin had Nines’ arms wrapped around his waist so he couldn’t get to it. Nines was unable to contain the smile at that. Dipping his nose in the crook of Gavin’s neck, he took in the amazing fragrance that was Gavin Reed, one that he’d been blessed to have woken up next to the past few months. He’d taken a shower this morning, but past the soap, the personal, pleasant scent was yet present. Being near him gave Nines a sense of peace. He never thought anyone could mean this much to him.

“So you’re keeping it?”

“I mean, shit, if that turns you on,” he teased, once again downplaying it as he turned in Nines’ arms to face him. Gavin palmed the table surface behind him. “In all seriousness, that’s... weirdly fucking sweet. Didn’t know you had it in you, Nines.”

“You bring out the worst in me, and believe me, that’s not a compliment. I’m still considering to strangle you with the attached lace.”

“Oh yeah? That a threat or a promise?”

“Both, if you’re lucky.”

Nines looked down at him through heavy eyelids. Reaching up, he trailed the outline of Gavin’s lips with the tip of his thumb. Lips that he, admittedly, had been obsessing over ever since he first felt them upon his own. Gavin’s pupils had already dilated slightly. He had always been beautiful, but once disarmed, the vulnerability that only Nines could see made him even more attractive. Nines’ fingertips ghosted down his neck, stopping to rest the now blue LED on his forefinger’s middle phalanx, thumb keeping it in place.

Lightly tugging Gavin in by the lace, lips were joined.

* * *

**~ JULY 15TH, 2040 * PM 11:05 ~**

Having returned from their shift five hours ago, a case was close to being solved, and thus Nines made the decision of bringing the evidence home. They were already assigned five other cases of which no more evidence had been presented, so it would feel better to wrap up at least one by the end of the day. He’d spread said evidence over the dinner table to go over it.

Although the cases on android hate-crimes had dissolved to an extent -- being well over a year since the revolution took place -- it was far from over. Groups were yet spread across Detroit and the DPD was hard at work.

“Hey, Nines,” came a familiar voice, Nines looking up to see Gavin by the balcony door. “Wanna join me outside for a bit?”

Gavin’s hand was in one of his back pockets to fish up a pack of cigarettes, dark grey set on a spot at the floor in front of him before meeting his. He was again resting on his left leg. The uncharacteristic, almost bashful, demeanor caught his attention. It was the same look that Gavin gave him whenever he knew he’d done something wrong. Made a mistake such as accidentally put colored clothes together with one of Nines’ white dress shirts. If he was caught red-handed trying to solve a case on his own.

They liked challenging one another. Despite them having been a couple for about a year, the competitive -- albeit healthy -- nature between them never perished. The banter was stronger than ever. Sharp attitudes among others, but when they were together and alone, they allowed themselves to put down their guard. Their relationship was built on mutual trust.

“I’ll be right there, love.”

Nodding, Gavin propped a cigarette between his lips. He moved onto said balcony.

Nines turned back to the evidence, bringing his other hand to the table and shuffling the documents more neatly together.

Clearly, Gavin wanted to talk. He always got a bit weird whenever that happened although it certainly wasn’t as bad as it once were. As time passed, Gavin had started opening up more and more to him.

He’d told him how he was never the kind of guy that followed the stereotypical romance. That he wasn’t the restaurant, chocolate, and flowers kind. Naturally, that didn’t matter for Nines. He didn’t eat and flowers were useless unless related to medical purposes and photosynthesis. Besides, he was never that ecstatic about being forced the responsibility of maintaining said plant. They were pretty to look at, though. Not to mention that Nines had developed a mild fear of roses as it brought him back to the Zen Garden, but said fear slowly perished.

Gavin had also told him why he’d been avoiding romantic relationships for over a decade.

He was, simply put, scared. Scared of not meeting expectations. Scared that his job would put his loved ones in danger. Scared that he’d hurt, be hurt, disappoint and be disappointed. Scared of the way Nines was looking at him like he was someone incapable of making mistakes. Someone without flaws. Nines knew he had flaws, and frankly, that was what made him so endearing. These imperfections that were perfect in their own way. Like everyone else, Gavin had flaws, and androids were no exception. Nines had flaws, too.

Every day, he fell a bit more, first with the bigger quirks. How morally just Gavin was. How quickly he took the more dangerous cases so no one else had to. How he in his extroverted nature always stepped in to break things up when Nines became overwhelmed. How he always made a good effort to include everyone in conversation not to feel left out.

Now smaller events also contributed. How a mild pout would emerge and nose crinkle when he was concentrated or jealous. How he and no one else could read Nines’ micro-expressions. How he would cradle Paws like a baby. How he would grab Connor and rustle his hair when he’d solved a tricky case. How he would lean on Nines, using the excuse that he was ‘just resting,’ when the truth was that he simply wanted contact. How important he made Nines feel. How he one day, in public, slipped his hand into Nines’ and stopped pulling away.

To this day, Gavin’s laugh remained his favorite.

Stepping onto the balcony, Nines found him resting against the building wall. An arm laid horizontal across his chest -- one elbow atop his wrist -- and eyes half-lidded as he stared on the city lights below.

A mild breeze pushed through the air. The smoke from the cigarette in his hand emerged upon the night sky.

When Nines spun a half-circle around him -- taking said cigarette with him in the process -- there was no argument. No fighting back. Gavin did purse his mouth to suppress the smile, however. Nines stumped it in the tray next to an empty beer bottle and glass atop the table just to his left. Right shoulder propping to the wall just next to his, Nines’ body remained turned his way as he pocketed his hands. Gavin had greatly cut down on the smoking, but he had a tendency to grab one whenever he was stressed.

“Can’t even have one smoke these days, huh?”

“Until they invent a non-harmful equivalent, no, you cannot,” he deadpanned, watching as Gavin stepped away from the wall and approached the banister. Calloused hands encountered the railing. “Is everything all right?”

Gavin bowed his head. “Just something I’ve been meaning to talk to you ‘bout for a while.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh?” he repeated, mocking offense -- an amused glint in his eye -- as he turned his upper body to face him. Gavin let his left arm drop in the process. “Look. I love you, but don’t, ‘uh-fucking-oh’ me.”

“It’s a spontaneous reaction.”

“Prick,” he said, but there was no bite in it. Settling in a chair, Nines propped a hand to his thigh as the other forearm rested atop the other. Gavin parted his arms with the doe-eyes. “You gonna let me finish now?”

“Proceed.”

“About a half year back when we did research on android passports, they needed a last name to put on your ID before you were allowed on a plane. We were doing that undercover op, so it didn’t matter at the time, but I asked what name you were planning to use outside of work. If you were gonna claim ‘Anderson’ like your brother or stick with ‘Stern’,” he said, one arm falling to his side. Nines couldn’t tell where he was getting at. Avoiding his eyes, Gavin let out a cough behind his fist. “You said you were holding out for ‘Reed’.”

“Correct.”

“Okay, so... were you just fucking with me, or that still the case?”

“Both, obviously.”

“Good, ‘cause what I’m ‘bout to do is probably the scariest fucking thing I’ve ever done... so go easy on me. I blame you if my knee pops.”

Nines arched a brow. “Why would your knee -?”

His question was cut short seeing him slowly drop to said knee. Recognizing the implication, his throat closed as Nines sat straight, and between Gavin’s pecs did his LED flicker yellow. Forearms moved to rest atop thighs and two practiced hands reached for his left limb. A stubbled jaw clenched, dark grey focusing on said limb as the artificial skin pulled back. A thumb and forefinger ghosted up Nines’ annular digit before reaching his proximal phalanx. Said thumb rubbed gently against the empty area as the LED kept processing.

“It’s fucking insane how much can change in near two years. Back then, I wouldn’t think twice ‘bout putting a bullet between your eyes. Almost did just ‘cause of the turtleneck alone,” he teased, an infectious grin emerging on his lips. It slowly faded. “I’ve been sitting on my ass for far too long, but I’m done waiting on the sidelines. Time to step up. You’ve held out with me so far, so kudos.”

“I was surprised, too.”

“Jesus, this is traumatizing enough as it is. Why the fuck do you have to be a dick about it?” he said as he met his gaze, his innocent look resulting in Nines’ self-satisfied smirk as icy grey narrowed. Gavin’s fell briefly. “So what do you say, tin can?”

 _I didn’t hear the question,_ he wanted to jest, but he didn’t take the words for granted. Nines could be a dick, yes, but not that much of a dick.

Simple was the answer nonetheless.

“Yes.”

Gavin grinned at that. “Dramatic pause, much?” he teased, resulting in Nines’ chuckle. He lifted Nines’ palm to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the inside of it as he held his gaze. Rising to his feet, he helped him up. “C’mere, big guy.”

Not needing to be told twice, Nines latched his arms around Gavin’s neck. He nuzzled into the embrace.

They married later that year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** ...and that's a wrap!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has read + actually gotten through this story. The support has been breathtaking *insert Keanu Reeves* and the comments never failed to put a smile to my face. This is certainly not my last contribution to the fandom, so expect to get far more Reed900 from me. This is my fav ship ever and I love writing my disaster sons sfm.
> 
> It's been a long journey. Take care :)


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